


What a Lovely Way to Burn

by Bootsncatz (bootsncatz), LuckyWantsToKnow



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, F/F, F/M, Gen, Jello Molds - Freeform, Waverly is a pretty and perky housewife, also maybe some death, killer housewives anyone?, murdery feelings, some slight murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-10-19 19:19:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 93,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17607380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bootsncatz/pseuds/Bootsncatz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyWantsToKnow/pseuds/LuckyWantsToKnow
Summary: Waverly is your typical, 1950's suburban housewife. With perfect hair, brightly colored dresses, a neat house and lobster relish jello molds, Waverly really couldn't ask for anymore. When Nicole moves in next door, Waverly finds herself exploring parts of herself she didn't know existed. Except her husband is a bore and a bit of a pill. He's not so much of a problem if he's six feet under though.AKA the 1950's killer housewife AU no one wanted





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Welcome to this weird and wacky world that Lucky and I have been kind of living in for a few months. Imagine Pleasantville and Heathers and mash 'em together to get a little bit of something like this. 
> 
> Anywho. Thank you for giving this a little click and hopefully a try. Don't worry, it only gets gayer the longer on it goes.

Chapter 1

_Ding!_

The kitchen timer pulled Waverly away from the Good Housekeeping magazine she’d been reading again. Probably for the best since the article on “Calorie Bargain Barbecue” was getting tired, and she’d already read the fiction pieces so many times that she had them memorized.

Closing the well worn magazine and placing it just _so_ on the coffee table, Waverly stood up and walked into the kitchen. Her cherry red heels clicked against the linoleum of the kitchen as she walked to the oven. She bent over to look in and saw her pie, perfectly golden brown and clearly done. 

With a satisfied hum, she picked up her oven mitt and slipped it onto her hand. She smiled momentarily at the mitt, decorated with bright cartoon illustrations and _‘Niagara Falls’_ embroidered in swirling letters across it. A gift from Wynonna when she came back from her honeymoon three years ago.

Waverly had been so envious at the time, dreaming of her own honeymoon and where she and her husband would go to celebrate their nuptials. She imagined somewhere tropical and exotic. Like _Hawaii_. Or somewhere old, with history, where they could peruse the museums hand in hand. In each of those daydreams, she held hands with a faceless person with soft hands. She didn’t know what her perfect partner looked like, but she would dream anyway.

When she started going steady with Champ, she tried to shove him into that picture. After all, he was handsome and sweet and all the other girls wanted him. Sure his hands were sweaty and rough. But it looked like he would join his dad working at the bank and would be a great provider. So when he asked Waverly to marry him, she said yes. 

Then she imagined Paris and Italy and even New York with Champ. Just to see something beyond their little pocket of the world. Purgatory wasn’t the _smallest_ town, but it felt like it was getting smaller and smaller each year. 

Waverly just wanted to see something _different_ for once. And the honeymoon was the time to do it.

She tried to get Champ to let her plan it, but he insisted that he wanted to handle everything. She could plan the wedding while he planned the honeymoon. Fine. She had told him multiple times about her hopes and dreams for their honeymoon. There was no way he could mess that up, right?

Wrong.

Waverly got excited when he told her to pack a swimsuit. But it turned out, he booked them a weekend stay at the motel just outside of town with the new hot tub and a little casino. Waverly had never been more disappointed in her entire life. Well...until the wedding night.

Chrissy had told her how her first time with Perry was “magical” and Wynonna more than implied how nice sex was. But for Waverly it just seemed to fall...flat. Champ, half drunk on the champagne the old lady at the front desk had given them in congratulations, fumbled with all of Waverly’s clothes. His hands were clumsy and rough, grabbing at her in ways that were not pleasurable. And when they finally got the the main event, he just kinda flopped around on top of her for a few minutes before rolling off and passing out, leaving Waverly lying there in an uncomfortable motel bed, staring up at the water stain on the ceiling, and feeling wholly unsatisfied and thoroughly disappointed.

But Champ was her _husband_ now, and she had to be a dutiful wife. Waverly did not half-ass anything, and she certainly wasn’t going to half-ass her wifely duties. 

Waverly shook her head from her thoughts and opened the oven, reaching in and carefully taking out the pie. She set it on top of the stove and took a deep whiff. Apple brandy pie. Champ’s favorite.

She reached behind herself and undid her canary yellow apron, hanging it on a hook inside the pantry. With a glance at the clock, she saw her day was right on track. Wynonna would be over in a little bit for a visit and she could help her with dinner before Champ came home.

Waverly paused when she glanced at her reflection in the mirror across the way in the living room. She flattened her hands down the front of her white dress, the red piping along the edges making the tiny red polka dots on the fabric pop, and matching the shade of her shoes perfectly. Her hair was up and out of the way, a pony tail tied up with a red ribbon. She patted down an imaginary stray hair on her head as she took her oven mitt off and set it aside.

_Ding dong_

For some reason, the bell always felt more aggressive when Wynonna was behind it. She walked to the door, the clicking of her heels silenced as she moved from linoleum to the carpet of the living room. She opened the door and Wynonna stood there with an exasperated look on her face. The collar of her red house dress was slightly turned up. Waverly gasped at the sight. She ushered Wynonna in and led her to a seat in the kitchen. 

“Want some water? You look exhausted,” Waverly said, already getting a glass out of the cupboard.

“What every woman wants to hear,” Wynonna said, smoothing her palms over her thighs. “You’re just supposed to tell me how motherhood suits me and I’m glowing.”

Waverly smiled and pulled out one of the jello molds that was gifted to her at her wedding shower before turning to Wynonna.

“You’re glowing and motherhood suits you,” Waverly said as she set the mold on the counter beside Wynonna. “Is that the one you wanted to borrow?”

“Yeah,” Wynonna said begrudgingly, pushing it a little with her finger. She turned back towards Waverly and cocked her head. “So how’s Chump?”

Waverly gave Wynonna a look. “ _Champ_ is fine, thank you very much.” She pulled out a second mold along with a box of lime jello, shifting uncomfortably for a moment as the sanitary belt around her waist pinched. Her stomach dropped and she leaned against the counter. “But I got the curse this month. I’m not...pregnant. Again.”

“Thank god,” Wynonna said, standing up and walking over to the alcohol cabinet. She pulled out a glass for herself and poured some whiskey into it before turning back to look at Waverly, arm tucked around her waist and elbow resting on her arm. She spotted Waverly’s crestfallen look and nodded towards her as she took a sip of her drink. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

Waverly sighed and smoothed down her already perfect dress. “I don’t know, I just...he wants a baby.”

“Doesn’t mean he should have one.”

“A son...specifically. He’s made that clear many times-”

“Like a kid raising a kid-”

“And we’ve been married two years now,” Waverly muttered, biting on her lower lip and probably smudging her ruby red lipstick. “I feel like it should have...happened by now. You weren’t even married a year when Alice came along.”

“Maybe even the stork knows that Hardy should be the last person with a kid,” Wynonna said, chuckling at her own joke. “And trust me. You don’t want kids. Don’t get me wrong, I love Alice to death but...I don’t know. They’re little parasites, aren’t they?”

Waverly gasped, scandalized. “Wynonna! That’s my niece you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, you know I would die for that kid,” Wynonna said, going over to the counter where she had set down her purse and searching through it. She pulled out a box of Philip Morris cigarettes and handed one to Waverly. “But they’re… _kids_. All they do is complain and cling to you and they’re dirty and...well I’m just saying, I say you ride that no baby train as long as you can.”

Waverly took the cigarette mindlessly and hummed. “Since when did you stop smoking Lucky Strikes?”

“The doctor said these were better for my throat,” Wynonna shrugged, lighting it and taking a long drag. “Anyways. I get that you want a kid. But if you want you can keep Alice for a whole week. Get the real experience.”

Waverly didn’t bother lighting her cigarette, just instinctively putting her hand on her stomach instead. “I suppose.”

“Trust your big sister, baby girl,” Wynonna said. “You’ll have a kid and they’ll be the light of your life or...whatever. But your husband will be too busy running around and doing god knows what at night instead of being there to help raise their spawn.”

Waverly didn’t miss the bitterness in Wynonna’s voice as she started some water on the stove for the jello. As the water was left to boil, she pulled out an onion and grater. “Still don’t know where John Henry goes sometimes?”

Wynonna scoffed and tapped the end of her cigarette into the sink. Waverly rolled her eyes and pushed the kitchen ashtray towards her pointedly. 

“That son of a bitch is really testing my patience these days,” Wynonna muttered. “He thinks he’s James Dean or some shit.”

Waverly couldn’t help but chuckle as she grated her onion into a bowl. There was a knock on the door and Wynonna stood straight up.

“Is that the milkman?” she asked, craning her neck to peer out the kitchen window.

Waverly glanced at the clock. “Probably-”

“I’ll get it,” Wynonna said, already starting towards the door. Waverly watched in amusement as Wynonna smoothed out her hair and answered the door with a big smile. 

“Hello ma’am,” came the deep voice of the milkman. Waverly waved to him from the kitchen and he tipped his hat at her, his skin contrasting handsomely with his starched white uniform.

“Hello, Xavier,” Wynonna said, voice lower. “I’ll take those for my sister.”

He handed her the six crate of milk and smiled widely at Wynonna. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Wynonna said, not so subtly scanning his body as he turned around and headed back towards his truck. Wynonna groaned obscenely and shut the front door once he was back in the truck. “He is somethin’.”

“Keep it in your skirt, Wynonna,” Waverly admonished playfully. 

“I can’t help it,” Wynonna complained. “I’m so bored at home all day while John Henry gets to live it up.”

Waverly hummed and put the gelatin powder in the water, mixing in some cold water, vinegar and the grated onions before stirring. “Is he still coming to the boy’s poker night tonight?”

Wynonna sighed. “Like he would miss that for the world. All he talks about is how good your cooking is and that I should let you teach me.”

“And you’re coming to the book club?” Waverly asked.

“As if I would miss my _one_ day of socializing,” Wynonna said. “What does Rosie want me to make this week?” Waverly raised her eyebrow at Wynonna as she poured half the jello mixture into the mold.

“You know Rosie never asks you to make anything.”

Wynonna pouted. “She asks everyone else!”

“She knows you can’t cook,” Waverly pointed out, putting the mold and pot of remaining jello in the fridge to set. “Just bring those cookies from the bakery like you always do.”

“Fine.”

The sound of a large car driving down the usually quiet suburban street drew their attention to the window where they could see a big moving van parking in front of the house next door. The two sisters went to the window and peered out behind the sheer curtains. The passenger door opened and a small, thin man with slicked back hair slid out. He was very sharp looking, a black turtleneck under a houndstooth jacket with thick black glasses on his face.

“Dweeb,” Wynonna said under her breath. Waverly elbowed her lightly.

“Be nice. We don’t even know him yet.”

Wynonna just hummed as a tall red-headed woman got out of the car, black cigarette pants hanging neatly from her hips with a checkered shirt tucked in. Waverly found her eyes wandering up those long legs, throat closing up and mouth going dry as they made their way up to her pale throat and the curve of her jaw. 

“Damn,” Wynonna said as the woman pushed her sunglasses up from her head and squinted at the house. “How did the dweeb score her? He must be rich.”

Waverly cleared her throat and stood back up. “Alright, no need to be nosy neighbors.”

“Too late,” Wynonna said, still staring out the window as she took a sip of her whiskey. 

Waverly ignored the uncomfortable pressure low in her stomach and the gnawing need to look back outside at her new neighbor. She checked the consistency of the jello in the pot and pulled it out along with some cottage cheese to fold into it. But she positioned herself at the counter so that she could look up every once in awhile to catch a glimpse of the redheaded woman as she watched the moving men unpack the van.

***

Rosita let the cleaver come down quickly on the whole fish lying on the chopping board in front of her. It landed with a heavy _clink_ , the head of the fish coming off cleanly from the rest of its body.

“Gross,” she whispered to herself as she delicately dropped the head into the boiling pot of vegetables on the stove besides her. She sighed and looked into the pot of soup, already regretting eating it even if it hadn’t touched her lips yet. 

“Man the cannon!” came the frail, grizzled voice of her husband in the living room. 

_“Dios mío ayudame,”_ Rosita said under her breath as she stirred the soup. She craned her neck to look around the corner of the kitchen to see him sitting in his usual chair, dressed in his grey Confederate uniform and armed with a scabbard strapped to his side. On television, Lassie put her paws on a well, and he yelled something unintelligible. 

Admittedly, this was not what Rosita was expecting when she agreed to marry him five years earlier. She was young, working as a cigarette girl at the Gus Stevens Seafood Restaurant & Buccaneer Lounge where he was a regular patron. She was used to the men there staring, gawking, and generally being rude as she pranced around in her short red skirt, and pillbox hat. A sad excuse for a bellhop uniform. But she would just grin and bear it, hoping for higher tips and a quicker ticket out of town.

She was saving up to go to school and just make something of herself. She knew it was uncommon for a girl, let alone a girl _like her_ to go to college for science, but she was determined. She was smarter than all the boys in high school, something that had gotten her mocked and ridiculed by everyone. But her mother always told her, ‘ _No dejes que te digan quién eres_ ’, and Rosita took that to heart.

The problem was...money. Something she didn’t have. 

So she took on two jobs, one as a receptionist at a local lab and one at the supper club. Oddly enough, she got more respect flouncing around in short skirts with her Camel Cigarettes box, than covered up and taking calls behind a desk.

There was one man that would always come in who everyone referred to as The General. He was shrunken and elderly, partially curved over as he hobbled in with a cane. He was always decorated in some kind of military get-up and never seemed to bother with putting in his teeth. Every night, he would hit on Rosita, buying boxes upon boxes of cigarettes just so she would come to the table. He would make her sit on his lap and tell her how she looked like a girl he fell in love with during the war who took a cannonball through the stomach. He told Rosita that he thought he’d never love again...until he saw her.

It was no secret that The General was rich. Everyone knew.

All the other girls were jealous that he was giving Rosita all the attention because he tipped so well.

At the end of every night, he would leave Rosita a big tip, take her hand, and ask her to marry him.

Rosita rejected him every time, nicely of course, in the way that you reject someone when you’re not entirely sure if they were serious or not. Especially someone who smelled like mothballs and menthol rub. 

Until she started thinking...he was rich. Really rich. And clearly only had a little more time left on earth. He seemed harmless enough and obviously wouldn’t be expecting children. So if she married him...maybe he would kick it soon and she would inherit all his money so that she could finally go to college. No more working multiple jobs and having guys try to peek under her skirt all day.

So she said yes.

Little did she know, he would still be hanging on five years later.

Not only that, but his house smelled exactly like he did, despite how much Rosita aired it out. And he could only eat soup. Weird...lumpy soups that Rosita then ate because her mother didn’t raise her to waste food, and she didn’t want to bother making separate meals for the two of them every day. His speech had devolved to mostly different war phrases that she tried to ignore, but she couldn’t completely complain. 

Everyone knew she was married to an ex-military man, which meant she could take out all the scientific books in the library without being questioned as why a woman was checking out such books. Plus, he had an oddly large supply of old artillery stored in the basement that Rosita had been using for her experiments.

The stink of the soup was making her stomach turn, so Rosita opened up the kitchen window and went to the phone. She dialed Waverly’s number on the rotary phone and leaned on the sink to be closer to the fresh air outside.

“Hello?” Waverly answered.

Rosita breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Champ who answered. He was always a pill when she called asking for Waverly.

“Hello, Waves, it’s Rosita,” she said. “Book club is still on for tomorrow, right?” 

“Yessiry it is!” Waverly said cheerfully. “What do you want me to make?”

“Your pot roast, please,” Rosita gasped desperately, mouth already watering at the thought. “I crave solid foods. And tell Chrissy to make her potato salad.”

Waverly giggled. “She’s going to be mad you’re asking her to make that again.”

“I don’t even care,” Rosita said looking over her shoulder at The General. “I just need my night away and to indulge in solid foods. Our book clubs are the only night I can feel like a human.”

“Don’t worry, Rosie,” Waverly said. “You’ll have your solid foods in no time.”

“You’re an angel,” Rosita said.

“Hey, did you...by chance see the new neighbor today?” Waverly asked innocently.

“New neighbor?” Rosita asked, squinting out the window. “Where? Next to you?”

“Yeah.”

“No, I missed them. Why?”

“Oh just...wondering.”

Rosita sensed a story and opened her mouth to respond before she was interrupted.

“Maria!” The General called from the next room. 

Rosita closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I gotta go. The General calls.”

“Night, Rosie,” Waverly chuckled.

“Goodnight,” Rosie said, hanging up the phone. _Just one more day_ , she thought to herself as she scooped some foul smelling soup into a bowl, _one more day and I can eat my solid foods._

***

_Let me know where I stand from the start. I want you, I need you, I love you. With all my heart-_

Waverly turned up the volume on the record player a little bit so that the boys could hear it over their loud chattering. The smoke from their cigars stung Waverly’s eyes and she knew that the smell would cling to her clothes for far longer than she cared, but there was nothing for her to do about it. 

She looked over at the round table in the dining room where they all gathered. Champ was three drinks in and already looking sloppy. His face was red, eyes glossed over as he slapped John Henry on the shoulder over something he’d said, head tipped back in loud laughter.

Perry sat next to John Henry, leaning back and sipping quietly on his own drink as he observed. Besides them, there were two of Champ’s buddies from work whose names Waverly could never remember. Two buffoons who laughed at dirty jokes and leered at Waverly in a way that made her want to slap them. But whenever she brought it up to Champ, he’d just play it off.

“It’s because you’re a looker,” he’d say. “Be flattered. My friends don’t like ugly dames.”

After Waverly turned up the record player, she tried to make her way back into the kitchen unseen as the boys played their poker, when she felt someone grab her wrist roughly. She clenched her jaw and looked over to see Champ sneering up at her.

“Hey, baby,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Why don’t you come here for a second.”

He tried to tug her towards him but she resisted. Still, she kept her good, wifely smile on her face. 

“I’m making you boys some food in the kitchen, Champ,” she said cheerfully.

_I thought I could live without romance-_

Champ grunted, tugging on her wrist again. His grip barely tightened, but it was on the edge of being too tight. Waverly felt a flare of panic start in her chest but she pushed it down. She kept her eyes on Champ but could feel the other guys looking at her.

“Just for a minute, Waves,” he insisted. “You’re my good luck charm.” He tugged on her wrist again and she stumbled towards him. She squeaked in surprise when he pulled her into his lap, looping his arms around her waist as her cheeks burned. Waverly kept her eyes glued to the cards in Champ’s hand instead of looking anywhere else. To see the other men at the table leering. 

Except maybe John Henry. He was a scoundrel in his own way but Waverly knew he felt protective towards her since he started dating Wynonna. 

_Won't you please be my own? Never leave me alone-_

“This is a good hand,” Champ said, as his teeth chomped down on the end of his cigar to keep it in place. He held it and let out a puff of smoke that went right up into Waverly’s face as his sweaty hand gripped her thigh possessively. Waverly could feel the heat of it even through her dress and petticoat as he squeezed. 

Waverly covered her mouth with her hand and let out a small polite cough, eyes watering from the smoke. The oven dinged in the kitchen and she sighed in relief. 

“Oopsie, I have to get the oven before I burn the place down,” she said airily, brushing Champ’s hand off her thigh and standing up before he could protest. 

_'Cause I die every time we're apart. I want you, I need you, I love you. With all my heart._

Her heels clicked against the floor with a renewed vigor as she hurried to the kitchen. When she was finally in the kitchen, the noise from the dining room only slightly muffled but still feeling a million miles away, she let out a shuddery breath. 

Waverly leaned against the counter for a moment, hands gripping the edge of the yellow tile, the cheery pale buttery walls and sunflower adorned curtains soothing her slightly. The smell of cigar smoke still stung her nostrils but she stood up straight and stepped over to the oven to turn it off. 

She pulled the jello mold from earlier from the refrigerator, now complete with folded in cottage cheese to the top jello ring and seafood salad in the middle. Setting it on the counter, she pulled her butcher knife from the drawer and gripped the handle tightly. The light of the kitchen caught it in just the right way to make it gleam so brightly that Waverly swore she could see her reflection in it. 

She heard the clicking of the poker chips and deep laughter of the men in the other room. She looked down at her carefully made jello mold and rolled her shoulders. 

Like a mantra, she repeated in her head, _I love my husband...I love my husband._

Waverly lined her knife up with the top of the mold and pushed down far harder than necessary. The knife make a satisfying ‘clunk’ as it hit the plate and Waverly let out a deep sigh. 

She loved her husband. 

Clunk. 

She heard Champ’s voice slurring from the next room. “She loves it when I win. I won’t be able to keep her off my dick tonight!”

Clunk. 

She loved her husband. 

***

Waverly set out her pot roast on the kitchen counter when the doorbell rang. She did another quick check at the set-up, admiring her little appetizer plates and forks sitting on the counter next to the pot roast. She smiled to herself as she walked over to the front door, feet silently thanking her for wearing flats with her light yellow house dress today instead of heels like the day before. Champ always asked her to wear heels when people came over. He’d make his eyes big and stick his bottom lip out. His arms would snake around her waist and he’d talk about how sexy she looked with the heels.

It was a look that used to make Waverly melt. She’d smile and kiss him sweetly. But it got old very quickly.

She opened the front door and Rosita was barging her way in before Waverly could even say hello.

“I could smell the pot roast from out there,” she said, already heading towards the kitchen. 

“Hello to you too!” Waverly called after her. She waved her hand over her shoulder dismissively as Waverly turned back to where Wynonna was standing with a box from the local bakery. 

“Baby girl,” Wynonna greeted, kissing Waverly on the cheek briefly before following Rosita into the kitchen. Chrissy was behind her holding a large ceramic bowl in one hand and her little dog under her arm, its small legs dangling uselessly in the air. Waverly’s smile faltered only momentarily when looking at the dog, pointy-faced and rat-like with the typical fluffy white fur cut into odd round shapes that Waverly assumed was supposed to be stylish. The dog yipped at her and she turned her attention to Chrissy.

“Rosie is going to be very pleased you brought the potato salad,” Waverly said with a wide smile, taking the bowl.

Chrissy beamed back, perfectly waved hair bouncing on her head. “My pleasure,” she said. She lifted one of Pierre’s paws with her finger, her enormous diamond wedding set gleaming, and made it look like he was waving. “Say hello, Pierre,” she cooed before walking in. She followed the other girls to the kitchen and Waverly followed behind.

“Waves,” Rosita stepped in front of her as soon as she walked into the kitchen, holding up one of the small plates that Waverly had laid out. “These are adorable but...I haven’t eaten solid food in a week.”

“Bigger plates are above the stove, Rosie,” Waverly said.

“You’re a doll,” Rosita said, already going into the cabinet for a big dinner plate. 

After everyone got their food, they settled in the living room like they always did, Waverly and Wynonna on the couch while Chrissy and Rosita sat in two armchairs facing them. Everyone ate daintily while Rosita sat with the plate on her knees, body practically hunched over her plate, shoveling bite after bite into her mouth and making almost obscene moaning noises.

“For goodness sakes, Rosie,” Chrissy said, seemingly not noticing as Pierre, sitting daintily on her lap, took a piece of her pot roast. “You’re a _lady_.”

Rosita made an indescribable sound as she spoke through a mouth full of food. “Well this _lady_ is starving,” she said, pointedly putting another forkful of potato salad into her mouth.

Chrissy huffed, bristling in her chair at the impropriety of it all. Waverly stifled a chuckle behind a cough. Pierre, however, seemed to notice and growled lowly. He tried to bark but it just sounded like loud squeaks. 

“What is it, muffin?” Chrissy cooed. She balanced her plate on her knee and picked Pierre up so he was level with her face. His tail began to wag, tongue reaching out to lick Chrissy’s lips as his legs hung in the air. 

Everyone watched in horrified fascination as Pierre licked Chrissy’s mouth and she cooed at him like a newborn baby. This wasn’t an...uncommon occurrence, but terrifying just the same.

“Chrissy, can you wait until after we’re eating to get fresh with your dog, please?” Wynonna said bluntly. “If I wanted to watch you make out with a dweeb I’d go over to yours and Perry’s house.”

Chrissy snatched Pierre to her chest, squishing him against her bosoms as she gasped in scandal. “Wynonna, the _implications_ -”

“Yeah yeah,” Wynonna said, waving Chrissy off and taking another bite of her food. “I’m just saying, you can’t call Rosita improper when you’re frenching your dog over here.”

Chrissy sputtered and Waverly quickly decided to change the subject. “So, did anyone actually read the book this week?”

“Oh...we still do that here?” Wynonna asked. Everyone else seemed very interested in their food suddenly.

“Well, it’s probably for the best,” Waverly sighed. “We never actually talk about the book anyways.”

The sound of a door slamming next door grabbed Waverly attention and she sat up a little straighter. Just enough so that she could more easily see the new neighbors out the window on the side of the house.

The husband was in basically the same outfit as the day before, and was walking out, a suitcase in his hand. A few moments later, his wife walked out the front door in a royal blue polka dotted house dress and Waverly wasn’t even aware of how her eyes seemed drawn to her immediately. Her hair, Waverly couldn’t help but notice, contrasted perfectly with the material of her dress. For some reason it made Waverly want to...reach out and touch it.

The wife looked irritated as she followed behind her husband, putting her hand on the top of the car door as he opened it. Her jaw tensed as he turned to talk to her. 

“New neighbor?” Rosita asked, having finally slowed down her consumption long enough to focus on something else.

Everyone else’s eyes turned curiously to the window Waverly was looking out of. Waverly shifted a little uncomfortably for a reason she didn’t understand and nodded. “Yeah. Moved in just yesterday.”

“Have you talked to her yet?” Chrissy asked, Pierre licking the crumbs and gravy off her plate.

“Not yet,” Waverly said, setting her plate on the coffee table and folding her hands neatly on her knee. “Maybe I’ll take something over tomorrow.”

“Husband seems a little queer. Doesn’t he?” Chrissy said. 

“What about him?” Wynonna asked, setting her plate on top of Waverly’s.

“I’m not sure...” Chrissy trailed off.

Waverly tuned out the rest of their conversation as she continued to stare. The wife said something back to the husband and he nodded. They hesitated a moment before leaning forward and giving each other chaste pecks on the cheek.

She watched the husband drive away in his light blue Bel Air while the wife watched on. Waverly’s eyes followed long fingers as they came up and pushed red hair behind her ear. They continued down the curve of her jaw and -

Waverly cleared her throat. _What kind of cookie would the new neighbor like?_ , she wondered. Maybe something with vanilla.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all the lovely comments last time! It's about to get a little crazier so hold on to your sandwich loafs. I also realized I forgot to post the[playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) I've put together for this fic. Thank you again!

Waverly set the last sugar cookie on the cooling rack and moved the empty baking pan to the top of the stove to cool. Humming a nonspecific tune to herself, she placed her Niagara Falls mitt neatly back in the drawer. She went over to the mirror in the living room to double check her appearance. The red apron with white lace around the edges matched her red house dress smartly, hair done up in a ponytail and out of her face.

She flattened her already perfect collar and smiled at herself in the mirror to make sure there was no lipstick on her teeth. Just...basic things. It wasn’t like she was going above and beyond for this woman. Even if she was pretty and Waverly couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

Not _because_ she was pretty. But just because...she was intriguing. 

When she was satisfied with her appearance, she went back to the kitchen and got a large plate. It was light blue with delicate flowers painted on it, part of a set she’d received as a wedding present, and arranged the cookies carefully onto the plate just so. As she picked up the plate and started out the door, Waverly wondered where this fluttering nervousness in her stomach was coming from. It wasn’t as if she had never taken “welcome to the neighborhood” treats to another new neighbor. That was how she had met Rosita, after all. 

Perhaps it was just the excitement of having someone new in the neighborhood. After all, there wasn’t a lot in the way of entertainment around here. Especially for a woman. Maybe if Champ let her use the car every once in a while...but that was a battle Waverly knew she wasn’t going to win.

While she was contemplating ways to convince Champ to let her take the car, she ended up on the landing in front of the neighbor’s door. She blinked in surprise for a moment before fixing a smile on her face and reaching up to knock. 

There was an almost surprised sound on the other side of the door and Waverly listened to the slight rustling that followed before the door opened. There in the doorway stood her tall neighbor, with hair the shade of dark red that she hadn’t been able to get out of her head. 

“Hello,” the neighbor said in an unexpectedly pleasant voice. Deep and warm like honey. Waverly realized she hadn’t been breathing and smiled widely.

“Hello! My name is Waverly. I brought you cookies,” Waverly said a little breathlessly before adding on. “I’m your neighbor.”

“Nicole,” the other woman said, smile slowly growing on her face as she leaned casually against the door frame. For some reason the move made Waverly feel hot under her collar and her cheeks tinted. Nicole was wearing loose looking trousers with a white button up shirt tucked in. Waverly swore she looked like some kind of movie star. Like Katherine Hepburn or something. “Nice to meet you.”

Waverly hid a sigh behind, “Nice to meet you too.”

“I appreciate the cookies,” Nicole said, as Waverly handed her the plate. “Are these...sugar cookies?”

“Yes,” Waverly said with a proud smile. “With a hint of vanilla.”

Nicole smiled so widely that Waverly's eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the two dimples that popped onto her cheeks. 

“I’m a big fan of sugar cookies,” Nicole said looking down at the plate. She looked back up at Waverly and she felt her pulse flutter. “I love sweet things in general.”

Waverly managed a chuckle that was a little too enthusiastic but she tried to play it off. 

“Well I hope you enjoy,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. 

“Would you like to come in?” Nicole asked, gesturing towards the inside of her house. 

“Sure!” Waverly said before she could even think about it. She was pretty sure she had turned off the oven, after all, and honestly right now she would risk letting her house burn down if it meant she got to spend a little more time with her mysterious neighbor. Just a little more excitement for the neighborhood. 

Waverly stepped inside and took a look around. The house had a warm feel, wood paneling on the walls and the decor in varying earth tones. Without realizing it, Waverly had begun wandering deeper into the house, eyes taking in everything. A radio played softly in the corner, a tune Waverly couldn’t quite pick up. There was a book turned spine up on the coffee table and a still smoking cigarette butt in an ashtray.

“Can I get you a drink?” Nicole asked, closing the door behind them. 

Waverly turned quickly, cheeks tinting from being caught looking around. “I’m sorry, I interrupted your day.”

“Not much to interrupt,” Nicole admitted, her smile comforting and making Waverly’s shoulders relax a little. “I was daydreaming mostly. I’m happy for the company. Mind taking these into the living room? And feel free to have a seat.”

Nicole handed Waverly back the plate and she took them as Nicole ducked back into what Waverly assumed was the kitchen. Waverly took the plate to the coffee table. Her eyes widened when when she got a good look at the pinup girl peeking through the dusting of ashes in the aqua metal ashtray. The honey haired woman looked shocked as she sat on the exercise bike, a small dog behind her watching as her bottom bounced on the seat. Somehow even though it was a painting, Waverly could practically see her ample bosoms bouncing with the force of her pedaling. “Dod’s Bar” adorned the edges in bold black letters, with a phone number on the other edge.

Waverly blushed and looked away from the image, gazing around the living room. Her eyes were drawn to the mantel that was fairly bare except for a single framed photo of Nicole and her husband. It looked like their wedding with Nicole in a simple white dress with long lace sleeves, her husband in a well fitting black tux. Both had small, modest smiles on their face but looked fairly...bored.

Not that Waverly and Champ’s wedding pictures were any better. Champ was already drunk when it was time to take the pictures. No amount of coffee Waverly shoved down his gullet changed how red his cheeks were and unfocused his eyes had become. 

“You seem like a whiskey kind of gal,” Nicole called from the kitchen. Waverly was brought out of her thoughts and looked back towards the kitchen.

“Whiskey is just fine,” she said, going to sit on the couch in front of the coffee table. She leaned over to peek at the book cover.

_”The Supply Room”_ it read over a painted picture of a blonde woman sitting on the top of a washing machine, shirt open and brasserie proudly on display as some mysterious gust of wind blew up her skirt, revealing her garter belt and stockings. Another woman stood beside her holding a basket of laundry, clearly ogling her.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll get that out of the way,” Nicole said as she came back with two whiskey glasses. She set one in front of Waverly and quickly snatched the book, setting it on a side table as she took a seat on the couch next to Waverly. 

“Thank you for the drink,” Waverly said, reaching for her glass and realizing that her hands were shaking ever so slightly. She frowned to herself as she picked up the glass and took a politely long sip.

“Thanks again for the cookies,” Nicole said reaching for one. She took a bite and moaned in appreciation, eyes wide as she nodded. “These are delicious.”

Waverly waved off the compliment in modesty, free hand nervously smoothing out her apron and dress. “It’s my special recipe.”

“Well it’s fantastic,” Nicole said as she took another bite. 

“What book were you reading? If you don’t mind me asking,” Waverly said, eyes glancing to the yellow cover behind Nicole.

Nicole looked back at it for a moment before shrugging. “It’s just a silly pulp novel I got the other day,” she said.

“You know, I have a book club that meets every week,” Waverly said proudly. “Maybe you’d...like to join. Maybe we can read that book if you’re enjoying it. We’re always looking for new titles.”

Nicole chuckled, something deep and throaty that made Waverly stop mid-thought. “For some reason I don’t think your book club would be into my kind of reading, sweetheart,” Nicole said with a smirk like she was telling a joke. Waverly’s brow crinkled ever so slightly in confusion at the missed joke but she shook her head.

“Why’s that?” Waverly asked in genuine curiosity.

With a small shake of her head, Nicole quickly changed the subject. “What day is your book club?”

“Fridays usually,” Waverly said. “Once in a while we change depending on if the boys change their poker nights.”

“The boys?” Nicole asked, eyebrow tilting in curiosity. 

“Our husbands. Mine and the other girls in the neighborhood,” Waverly clarified. “Well...most of them. I don’t think The General has played cards since the war.”

“Which war?”

“Who knows,” Waverly sighed. She missed Nicole’s even more confused look before she quickly moved on. “And your husband. What’s his name?”

“Oh, um Fish- well...he goes by Fish. Since he was a kid. I suppose he’d prefer if people called him by his proper name, Sam,” Nicole explained. “I’ve known him since we were young. Fish is his last name and...well kids are cruel. The name just sort of stuck.”

“My sister was made fun of a good deal in school,” Waverly said sympathetically. “It was awful.”

“I take it you weren’t the butt of any jokes? Pretty girl like you,” Nicole said with a slight lilt to her voice, and Waverly needed to know where it came from. But not as much as she needed to know why Nicole complimenting her made her entire body warm.

Waverly shrugged. “I was when I was younger. But then in high school I was in a cheerleader.”

“Ah, so a popular girl,” Nicole said, eyes twinkling. “Apple of everyone’s eye I bet.”

Waverly blushed and giggled, cutting herself off by taking a sip of her drink. Nicole’s eyes were trained on Waverly and it made her squirm in a not entirely uncomfortable way. 

“I guess you could say that,” Waverly said with a slight brag to her voice. She noticed Champ’s car pulling past the house and sat up a little straighter. She groaned internally. Champ hated it when he got home and she wasn’t there. The argument wasn’t worth the risk. “I am so sorry, Nicole, I must go.”

Waverly sat the glass down on the coffee table and stood up, Nicole followed suit, standing up as Waverly smiled at her.

“Will I be able to see you at book club this week?” Waverly asked.

Nicole shook her head. “I can’t this week but...I’ll see you. Soon since...we live next door,” Nicole said with a tint of hopefulness. 

“I guess that’s right,” Waverly said, standing and looking at Nicole for another moment. The two stood looking at each other, just...staring. Waverly wondered how Nicole was this pretty up close, her eyes drawn to the beauty mark on her left cheek. Waverly heard her garage open and was jarred from her staring. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Later,” Nicole said with a smile and a nod, walking Waverly to the door. Even as Waverly moved down the walkway and back to the sidewalk, she could feel Nicole’s eyes on her and it made her grin wider with each step. At the edge of her yard, she turned around and waved at Nicole who waved back.

Waverly watched other woman as she closed her front door. Waverly couldn’t keep the smile on her face as she walked back to her house, though, opening the front door just as Champ was coming in through the garage.

“Hello, wife,” Champ said as he set his briefcase down near the door.

“Welcome home, dear,” Waverly said, taking his jacket as he shrugged it off. He turned around and reached for her, making her skin crawl at the possessiveness of it. 

“Give me a kiss hello,” Champ said, giving Waverly a sloppy kiss on the mouth. Somehow he already tasted like alcohol. “What’s for dinner?”

“You’ll see,” Waverly said, gently pushing Champ away. “Relax and watch the television while I get it.”

Champ just grunted and let Waverly walk back into the kitchen. She looked out the window, craning her neck just to get a peek of Nicole curled up on her couch, book propped up on her knees as she read. Waverly smiled to herself and got to Champ’s dinner.

***

“Mama!” Alice said in the little voice that simultaneously made Wynonna melt and cringe. She looked down and saw the three year old looking up at her, grubby hands reaching and tears ready to fall from big blue eyes at any moment. 

“Baby, I’m cooking,” Wynonna said as she continued chopping up a hot dog. “Go color in your book.”

“Mama, I want up!” Alice said, pulling on her apron, small voice beginning to reach a horrible decibel. Wynonna took a deep breath through her nose and turned towards her daughter.

“Alice Michelle,” Wynonna said, putting her hand on her hip and looking down at her daughter. “You are the light of my life and I love you. But please, shut the fuck up while I make dinner.”

Alice’s distraught face turned into one of glee as she giggled. “Mama said a bad word.”

“Yes, and it’s your fault,” Wynonna said, tapping the end of Alice’s nose. Alice giggled again but kept her tight grip on her mother’s apron. Wynonna always marveled at how strong she was for such a little human. All that unchecked strength…

“Mama,” Alice said, bottom lip stuck out further than Wynonna had ever seen. “I want up.”

“I’m cooking,” Wynonna said, stepping carefully around Alice and checking on the macaroni on the stove. The cheese bubbled and popped in a way that didn’t look...natural. “At least...trying to.”

“Mama!” Alice screamed, finally breaking into tears. Wynonna was surprised her wail didn’t break any windows in the house. 

“Okay, jesus,” Wynonna muttered, picking up the little girl and putting her on her hip. Alice screamed louder and pushed Wynonna away, one tiny, sticky hand pushing her cheek. “Alice, what do you want here?”

Wynonna grabbed her glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp, letting the smoky taste curl on her tongue for a moment as she tried to block out her daughter’s screams. She picked up a handful of the cut hotdogs and dropped them into the macaroni, stirring it in. Alice continued to scream and Wynonna felt her patience fraying.

She didn’t think this would be her life when she married John Henry. To be honest, she hadn’t really meant to be married at all. She managed to keep off men for a while- well...keep off _marrying_ a man for a while. Despite her father’s clear distaste for her “lifestyle” before he passed. But then John Henry had to go and knock her up and attempt to be honorable about it. At first the whole...sitting on her ass at home and just feeding a baby every once in a while seemed ideal. She could just let John Henry take care of her with his sometimes questionable dentistry business.

But little did she know...she’d be doing _all_ the work. She would gladly work as a receptionist if it meant her baby wouldn’t be screaming in her ear all day. 

Don’t get her wrong, Alice was for sure the littlest love of her life. But also the most annoying. 

The front door opened and she heard John Henry’s rough, “Wynonna, I am home!”

“As if I didn’t already know that by your stomping!” Wynonna called back. Alice seemed to think it was a yelling contest and screamed even louder. 

“Where’s my little angel?” he said as he came into the kitchen, a wide smile apparent under his mustache. Alice suddenly pushed Wynonna’s face harder and reached towards John Henry.

“Daddy!” she squealed as he scooped her from Wynonna’s arms. 

Wynonna scoffed and turned the stove off under the macaroni. “So you come home and suddenly you’re the hero?”

“Good evening to you too, Wynonna,” he said with a smile and that look in his eyes that had caught Wynonna to begin with. She cursed that look. That little sparkle got her into this mess to begin with. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, his mustache scratchy.

“I made dinner,” Wynonna said a little proudly as she got two plates down from the cabinet. “I’ll pour you a drink too.”

John Henry cleared his throat as Alice played with his mustache and babbled on about her day. “About that, Wynonna.”

Wynonna’s hand tightened on the spoon she was using to scoop out the food. “About _what_?”

“Well, I find myself going out for dinner tonight. With a few of the guys-”

“You _find_ you’re going out for dinner?” Wynonna said with a tight smile on her face. “How did you _find_ yourself in this situation?”

John Henry took his hat off as he set Alice back in Wynonna’s arms. The little girl nestled her face in the crook of Wynonna’s neck as her parents talked.

“I find myself going out for dinner, Wynonna,” John Henry repeated. “And that is that.”

“John Henry,” Wynonna said, voice firm. “I made dinner.”

He placed his hat back on his head and leaned forward to kiss Wynonna’s cheek. “And it looks lovely. I am sure you and Alice will enjoy it greatly. Do not wait up for me.”

Wynonna just blinked in shock as John Henry walked back out of the kitchen, the only evidence that he left being the sound of the front door opening and closing again. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Wynonna whispered to herself, looking down at the already congealing macaroni and cheese in the pot.

“Mama said a bad word again,” Alice said. “Mama where did Daddy go?”

“Mama said a bad word because your Daddy is an idiot,” she said cheerfully as she bounced Alice on her hip. “Want to call Auntie Waverly?”

“Yeah!” Alice said, clapping her tiny hands in front of her. Wynonna felt the anger expanding in her chest, her hands almost shaking with the force of it. She cradled the phone between her cheek and shoulder before punching in Waverly’s number.

“Hello?” came Waverly’s overly bubbly voice. 

“Waves, come over for dinner,” Wynonna said. Alice reached for the phone so Wynonna took the tiny hand in her own and kissed her knuckles.

“What? Why?” Waverly asked.

“My no-good husband left for the night,” Wynonna said.

“Daddy is a no-good husband!” Alice repeated into the phone. “Hello, Aunt Waves.”

Waverly laughed on the other side of the phone. “Wynonna, you can’t say that stuff in front of Alice.”

“Yeah yeah,” Wynonna said stretching the phone cord over towards the stove so that she could take a bite of the macaroni and cheese. She grimaced at how oddly...chewy it was. “So are you coming over or what?”

“I can’t. It’s after dark and you know Champ won’t let me take the car,” Waverly said in a hushed voice.

Wynonna rolled her eyes and silently cursed her sister’s equally no-good husband. “Have him drive you. He can even stay if he wants.”

“Wy,” Waverly said gently. “You know I can’t.”

Wynonna groaned loudly. “Why do both of our husbands suck an egg?”

Waverly snorted out a small chuckle. “You’re being a bit unfair.”

“Hardly,” Wynonna said. 

Waverly just hummed. “Oh! Rosita wants you to bring sugar cookies to the next book club.”

Wynonna smirked. “You’d think her own sugar cookies would be enough.” She snickered to herself. “Get it?”

Waverly audibly sighed. “I get it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay, Wynonna?”

“Fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Wynonna grumbled. 

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Wynonna hung up the phone and took the big wooden spoon of macaroni, offering some to Alice. She shook her head and hid her face back in Wynonna’s neck.

“No.”

“You know what...I don’t blame you,” Wynonna said, dropping the spoon back in the pot.

***

It wasn’t until halfway through the book club that Waverly brought Nicole up. 

Rosita had already had her three plates of food, they had mentioned the book they were supposed to read, Rosita told them about whatever crazy thing that The General had done that week...but Waverly had been sitting on this new piece of information.

Part of her wanted to keep Nicole close to her vest. Her little...secret that she could explore on her own. In a totally normal and platonic way. Obviously. She wasn’t going to tell them that she had been...glancing through the windows every time she saw even the hint of movement from Nicole’s home. She noticed Nicole spent a lot of time in the garage.

But Nicole’s name, for whatever reason, was trapped on the other side of Waverly’s lips and just begging to jump out.

“So,” Waverly said when there was a natural lull in the conversation. “I went over to the new neighbor’s place a couple of days ago. Her name is Nicole.”

There was a collective gasp from the group. Even Pierre let out a small bark. 

“Tell us everything,” Chrissy said, leaning forward a little bit with her hands folded and Pierre was perched on her knee, tiny paws gripping for purchase on Chrissy’s yellow dress.

“Well, she was wearing pants,” Waverly said over the rim of her drink. Chrissy practically screamed. 

“Pants?! She answered the _door_ in pants?”

“It’s not like she was in her birthday suit, Chrissy,” Rosita pointed out through a mouthful of...something.

Chrissy huffed. “But _pants_. Was her husband there?”

Waverly shook her head. “He was gone.”

“Where?”

Waverly shrugged. “I didn’t think to ask. Maybe he’s some sort of salesman.”

Wynonna snorted. “Or he’s just convinced he’d rather be anywhere but home. Maybe he’s hanging out with John Henry.”

“Wynonna, we’ve already talked about your sad life,” Chrissy said with a small pout. “We’re talking about Waverly’s new neighbor now.”

Wynonna rolled her eyes but tilted her chin at Waverly. “So. How was her house?”

“It was nice. Normal,” Waverly squinted a little bit. “A little bare maybe.”

“How was _she_?” Rosita said, eyebrow raised. 

Waverly couldn’t help but smile. “Very nice. She looked like a movie star. And just so-” Waverly sighed. “-lovely.”

Waverly was so lost in her thoughts about how elegant Nicole’s hands were that she didn’t notice that everyone was just blinking at her. Waverly came back to reality and blushed a little. “I invited her to the book club.”

“Is she coming?” Chrissy asked, sitting up a little straighter in her chair and looking at the window that was facing Nicole’s house. 

“She said she would. Just not this week,” Waverly confessed, taking a sip of her own drink. She glanced out the window too but Nicole’s curtains were drawn.

“Huh, well hopefully she emerges soon,” Wynonna said, leaning back in her chair and kicking her legs out in front of her. “I wanna ask her about the whole...pants thing.”

Catching a movement from outside, Waverly looked back towards the window just as a blonde woman walked up Nicole’s driveway. Everyone else seemed to notice and looked over towards Nicole’s house too. Waverly felt her stomach clench for some unknown reason as the woman strode up with a confidence Waverly didn’t know a woman could possess.

“She’s wearing pants too,” Chrissy said in a loud whisper. They all watched as she knocked on Nicole’s door and it opened just moments later. The smile that lit up Nicole’s face made Waverly feel a little lightheaded. She caught just the beginnings of Nicole embracing the other woman as the door closed and hid them from view.

“Wow,” Rosita said a little sarcastically. “Fascinating.”

“Hopefully she comes by next week,” Chrissy said, bouncing in her chair.

“Hopefully,” Waverly said, eyes still glued to the door Nicole and her friend had disappeared behind.

***

Waverly suppressed a yawn and gripped onto Champ’s ribs as best she could with how sweaty and slippery his skin was. His hands gripped possessively at her hips over her silky nightgown as he rutted up into her at a fast and...frankly uncomfortable pace. It reminded Waverly of when Chrissy got that exercise belt and it made Waverly feel like her insides were being shaken up and rearranged. 

She looked down at him and the way the vein in his neck bulged as he panted, teeth clenched and bared. 

Waverly decided to close her eyes instead and try to imagine...something else. Anything else. 

She imagined soft...strong hands slipping up her thighs...teasing between her legs before moving up and over her breasts. Waverly was jolted from her daydream when Champ reached up and grabbed her breast, tweaking the nipple painfully between two of his fingers. She hissed in pain and he grunted, hips moving more enthusiastically.

Waverly shut her eyes even tighter and imagined the soft hands again, cupping her breasts and a hot mouth closing over her nipples. She groaned at the thought, nails digging a little into Champ’s ribs. She wondered what it would feel like to have someone worship her with their mouth, lips trailing over her skin and hot tongue tracing the lines of her stomach.

“Babe,” Champ grunted, hands gripping her harder. “Do the thing.”

Waverly’s eyes fluttered open and she frowned for a moment. “The thing-?”

“Yeah, the thing, baby, do the thing,” Champ said. He tipped his head back, exposing more of his throat and Waverly remembered what he meant. She blushed.

“Oh.”

Champ sneered, too white teeth glowing in the low lighting of their bedroom. “Yeah, Waves, you like this cock?”

Waverly used all her self control not to roll her eyes. She took one hand from where she was hanging on to Champ’s ribs for dear life, and cupped his throat. She felt his pulse racing under her fingers as he moaned, hips slapping against her. 

“Harder, babe,” Champ managed between clenched teeth. 

Waverly sighed and closed her hand a little tighter around his throat. She felt his Adam’s apple bobbing against her palm and marveled at how...vulnerable he was like this. Really all she needed to do was squeeze a little too hard. His eyes were wild, sweat streaming down his forehead as she bounced on his lap.

“Yeah, babe,” Champ practically squealed. 

Waverly obliged all too happily, squeezing his throat harder and feeling how his pulse quickened under her fingers. The power she felt filled up her chest and she couldn’t help but squeeze harder.

Champ’s eyes bulged a little more as he gasped. “Um, babe.”

Waverly had barely noticed that he wasn’t humping up into her anymore. She just felt the adrenaline course through her as she continued to squeeze. Champ coughed a little, face beginning to turn purple as he started to hit the side of her thigh to get her to let go. Still she could only focus on how easy it would be to just...keep squeezing.

_”Babe.”_

Waverly suddenly realized what she was doing and released his throat with a gasp. He breathed a giant gulp of air with a satisfied smile on his face as it slowly returned to a normal color.

“That was great, babe,” he said.

Waverly shifted and noticed the sticky evidence of his climax between her thighs. She sighed and climbed off of him, hips already sore from his grip.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” she said as she adjusted her nightgown in the few places it had gone askew, her heart racing as she remembered what it felt like to just… _squeeze_.

Champ just groaned and turned over on his side, probably already asleep. Waverly let herself roll her eyes as her back was towards him and she walked to the restroom. She did her business and cleaned herself up a bit, looking at herself in the mirror.

There was no way she would actually have just...kept choking him. Right? She was just...testing the limits?

There was movement in the window above the toilet and Waverly looked out. She could see the side of Nicole’s house from here, and Nicole had opened the door. It looked like she was wearing some sort of nightgown, and the same woman that had walked up to her house earlier was walking out. Nicole had a smile on her face and said what Waverly assumed were parting words to the other woman before she walked back down the walkway to her car. Nicole stood in the doorway for a few moments, watching her, before shutting the door again. 

“Huh,” Waverly said to herself, stomach twisting again like it did earlier. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and fixed a few hairs that had gone out of place before trudging back into the bedroom where Champ was snoring. 

She slid between the sheets and stared up at the ceiling before closing her eyes and trying to relax. There was still a tension between her legs that made her shift uncomfortably, and she chanced a look back at Champ to confirm he was asleep before slipping her hand under her nightgown and between her legs. She sighed in relief as her eyes fluttered shut and she let her body give way to the ministrations of her fingers, not wanting to think too hard about the flashes of red hair she saw in her fantasies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1090989784258887680) and [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) on Twitter for a good time.
> 
> Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky wrote this chapter and has written what might be one of my favorite things to have happened in a garage ever. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

Waverly grimaced as she peered into the refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for Champ’s lunch. When they’d first gotten married, Waverly found it charming that Champ liked what her father used to call a good Dagwood sandwich, but lately it just seemed disgusting. Layering tongue over pimento loaf, Waverly applied a healthy amount of deli mustard and gingerly dropped the top slice of white bread onto the culinary disaster. She sighed in resignation as she wrapped the sandwich in paper and pushed the plate of lunch meat away from herself, leaning over to rest her elbows on the counter and allowing herself a moment to daydream. 

 

Champ stomped into the kitchen and slapped Waverly on the ass before she had time to straighten up. She yelped in surprise and he snickered, but his face then morphed into a hurt pout. 

 

“Babe, I can’t just eat a sandwich for lunch,” he whined, “it’s not enough food. I know you baked cookies this week, how come there aren’t any for me?”

 

“I made those for the new neighbor,” Waverly said, watching Champ root through the fridge, hopeful he wouldn’t find her.... “Bingo! You weren’t going to eat this jellyroll were you?” He winked obnoxiously, dropping the plate onto the counter in front of Waverly. “No one likes a fat girl, Waves, can you pack it up too?” 

 

Waverly bit her tongue, noting that he’d left his suit jacket unbuttoned again. There was only so much magic she could do with her Singer, after all, before he’d need a new one. 

 

Champ walked to the coat closet and shrugged on his overcoat, as Waverly sadly wrapped the cake, lowering it wistfully into the lunchbox like a coffin into a grave. Plastering a smile onto her face, Waverly walked into the living room and handed him the lunchbox. He remained standing there, an expectant look on his face, and Waverly, confused, went through her mental checklist. Breakfast and coffee, done, lunch made…

 

Champ leaned down a little, practically shoving his cheek in her face. 

 

Oh, right. Hiding her eye roll, Waverly leaning in and gave him a chaste peck. 

 

“Remember,” Champ said, one hand on the doorknob, “I’m getting a drink with the boys after work. Just put my plate in the oven.”

 

A gleeful feeling rose in Waverly at the thought of several extra Champ-free hours in her future. “Yes, honey,” she smiled at her husband, watching him as he rounded the walkway and pushed up the garage door. Champ’s beloved green 1950 Studebaker Champion rolled slowly out and idled in the driveway as he shut the garage, then drove off without a backwards look. 

 

Waverly let out a deep sigh of relief. She wandered back into the kitchen and packed up the lunch fixings, putting them back into the refrigerator. Washing the few dishes in the sink, Champ’s coffee cup and plate from breakfast and her own tea cup, she dried them and put them away. 

 

The day looked wide open. Waverly liked a neat house so there wasn’t much in the way of housework to do. Just a couple of hours of dusting and vacuuming later and the house was spotless. A chicken defrosted on the counter, ready for her to roast it by dinner time, perhaps she’d read her book...although she knew the girls would never get to discussing it at book club. 

 

An hour after settling herself on the couch with the book, Waverly’s mind was wandering. She huffed in frustration and shook her head, attempting to refocus herself on “Peyton Place”. Normally, it was exactly the type of book she’d love, with some seriously forbidden themes, but Waverly just couldn’t get into it. She’d been looking at the same paragraph for the past twenty minutes, but her mind kept drifting.  

 

She got up, resting her book on the coffee table, and wandered into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and looking inside before remembering Champ’s words. Closing the door she walked over and got herself a glass from the cabinet, filled it with water and drank it. She looked at the clock again. Exactly four minutes had passed. 

 

Sewing wasn’t appealing to her. At least Chrissy had a dog to walk. 

 

Waverly considered calling Wynonna, or Rosita, or even Chrissy. It wasn’t unusual for her to speak with her sister or girlfriends during the day, and the hours usually flew by when Champ was at work. It might even be her favorite time of day, if she was being honest with herself. But today what Waverly really wanted to do was get to know her intriguing new neighbor better. 

 

“She’s just a girl,” Waverly announced to the empty kitchen. “Why would it be weird to just go over there? I’m sure she’s bored at home without her husband there too.” She peered out the window that faced Nicole’s house again, but the house was quiet and the curtains drawn. Waverly wondered if Nicole was tired from having a guest over so late the night before. Maybe she was napping...but then Waverly started thinking about the blonde woman she’d seen leaving Nicole’s, and an uncomfortable feeling settled in her chest. She pushed away from the window, confused.

  
Maybe a nice lie down would feel good, Waverly thought. Washing her glass and sitting it in the strainer, she walked into her bedroom, kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed. There she proceeded to toss and turn for a quarter of an hour before dozing off fitfully. 

 

...where she immediately had a dream in which she was standing at Nicole’s door in the indigo night, and Nicole was opening the door wearing only a sheer white nighty. 

 

“What the hell?” Waverly muttered, snapping fully awake. She pressed three fingers to her lips, wide eyed at her own profanity. 

 

A sudden, loud, mechanical noise from next door reminded her of the reason for her distraction. 

 

Waverly got out of bed and wandered through the house, peeking out the window towards Nicole’s house. It seemed that her husband was still not returned from...wherever he’d gone...and Nicole was again doing something in the garage. Something loud. Waverly looked around the living room, everything in its place. She peered into the living room mirror and fixed her bed-mussed hair, left loose today over her shoulders. The pale green dress she wore was new, finished yesterday from a Simplicity pattern. “Presentable,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. Before she could overthink it, Waverly had slipped on her shoes and was walking out the front door and over to Nicole’s. 

 

The noise level increased as Waverly approached the garage door, so much that she knew it was pointless to ring the front doorbell, so Waverly walked around to the side of the house. She peeked through the window on the garage side door and almost choked. 

 

Nicole’s back was to her, busily doing...something with wood, on a large gray machine. Today she wore a pair of oversized men’s coveralls, tan, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. A chunky pair of black horn-rimmed safety glasses were perched on her nose, and a dark blue scarf pulled her red hair away from her face. Waverly watched, transfixed, as Nicole shut down the machine and ran elegant fingers up the piece of wood she was working on. 

 

In the sudden silence, Waverly remembered herself. “I’m a regular peeping Tom,” she chastised herself aloud, then knocked lightly at the side door. Nicole jumped, turning quickly, but her look of shock quickly slid into a smile as she pulled off the safety glasses and came over to open the door for Waverly. 

 

“Well, hello Neighbor,” Nicole greeted sweetly, leaning out of the doorframe and looking around. “Did your husband need to borrow a tool?” 

 

Waverly stared for a moment, open mouthed, but managed to recover quickly before the staring became too obvious. “Ummm...no, nope! I actually heard the noise and came over to see what it was.”

 

Nicole looked chagrined. “Oh, Waverly, I am so sorry. Is it too loud?”

 

“Not at all!” Waverly assured her quickly. “No, if anything now I’m just curious what you’re doing,” she giggled shyly, peeking discretely around Nicole, who stepped back. “Would you like to come in, Waverly?” she offered, gesturing into the garage, smiling at Waverly’s back as she stepped quickly over the threshold. 

 

“My husband’s gone for the day,” Waverly blurted, turning to look at her neighbor, immediately uncertain why she’d brought that up. Her confidence faltered slightly then, as Nicole shut the side door and leaned casually back against it, a single eyebrow lifting slowly towards her hairline. “What I mean is,” she said quickly, raising her hands in front of her with a cute, embarrassed squint, “no he doesn’t need to borrow anything.” Waverly stepped into the center of the garage and looked around her. In the far parking slot there was a car under a fabric cover. The back wall was set up with peg boards and tools were neatly hung up. The large machine Nicole had been using was in the center of the other bay, what looked like a chair leg secured in it. 

 

“What’s this?” Waverly asked, walking over to the machine. Nicole grinned and pushed off the door, striding over to Waverly, whose eyes widened as she noticed that the top several buttons of Nicole’s coveralls were undone, revealing what appeared to be a men’s Fruit of the Loom undershirt beneath it. The same type of ribbed undershirts that Champ wore. Waverly felt an unfamiliar combination of scandalized and fascinated. Who was this woman who wore men’s underclothes...and outer work-wear, worked on power tools and still looked gorgeous and feminine? Flustered, Waverly smoothed her sweaty hands down the front of her dress. The girls were going to love this when she told them about it. 

 

“Ah, this!” Nicole said affectionately, stroking the large gray machine with pride. “This is my Shopsmith Mark V. Fish and I moved here from an apartment, but I always told him that as soon as I got my own garage I was getting one of these. It’s five tools in one!” Nicole beamed at the machine, and Waverly couldn’t help feeling impressed. 

 

“That’s...very handy?” she tried lamely, but Nicole was already forging on. 

 

“I’m actually building a dining room set.”

 

Waverly’s felt like her eyes must actually be bulging out of her head. “You’re...what now?”

 

“Do you want to watch me finish this spindle?” Nicole asked. “You can sit here.” She bustled over the side of the garage and brought over a chair, dusting it quickly with a rag she pulled out of her back pocket, then looking over at Waverly. “Such a pretty dress, let me just put this clean cloth down for you to sit on.” 

 

“Why thank you, Nicole,” Waverly said brightly, “I actually just finished sewing this yesterday!” 

 

As Waverly settled into the chair Nicole threw her another grin, this one a little more cocky, that caused a surprising warmth to settle in Waverly’s stomach.  _ Nicole’s nice _ , she thought to herself,  _ that’s all it is. And she’s different. Nothing more than that.  _ Nonetheless, when Nicole pressed the start button on the machine, and the piece of wood started to rapidly spin again, Waverly couldn’t help swallowing a little, watching Nicole lean into her work, a focused expression on her face as she held a long chisel ended tool up to the spindle. 

 

Nicole looked up at her. “What I’m doing,” she yelled over the din, “is using this roughing gouge to round this out. Actually...” She suddenly stopped the machine, waiting for the whirling wood to stop moving before straightening up and gazing across the garage at Waverly. “Would you like to try?” 

 

Waverly laughed, but quickly covered her mouth when she saw Nicole’s look. “You...you’re serious?” she asked.

 

“Why not? I’ve tasted those cookies, and that dress looks great on you...you’re clearly talented with your hands,” Nicole replied smoothly. She pulled off her glasses and held them out. “Come on, I’ll show you how.” 

 

Waverly didn’t miss the compliment this time, and a faint blush tinted her cheeks. Nicole obviously wasn’t flirting with her, there was just something about her...delivery, that left Waverly flustered like a schoolgirl. But Nicole sounded so sure and suddenly Waverly felt more confident than usual. She bounced up from her seat. 

  
“You know what, Nicole? I think I would like to try!” She bit her lip a little, looking nervously at Nicole. “It’s such a big machine though, I haven’t the faintest idea where to start.” 

 

Nicole smiled, extending her hand to Waverly. She positioned her in front of the machine then stood behind her, reaching around to hand her a tool. Waverly could feel Nicole’s front pressing against her back and swallowed hard. Taking both of Waverly’s hands in her own. Nicole adjusted her grip on the handle. “Okay,” she murmured, and the warm breath against Waverly’s neck made her shiver slightly. Waverly could almost here the smirk in Nicole’s voice as she spoke again, “We’ll do this part right here. You hold the tool like this...that’s perfect, and you set it lightly against this piece, which is called the tool rest. This particular tool is a skew chisel, and we’re going to use it to add detail here,” she pointed a long finger to a bulging area at the top of the spindle. 

 

“But what if I mess this up?” Waverly asked hesitantly. Champ would never let her use one of his tools...he’d never even dream that Waverly could hold a tool, let alone use a  _ power _ tool. Waverly felt like she was doing something thrilling and forbidden. Her breathing shortened when she felt Nicole’s laughter rumbling softly against her back. 

 

“Oh Waverly, you can’t mess this up. We’ll just try a few things until you get the feel for it.”

 

So why did Waverly suddenly feel really warm?  _ Nerves _ , she told herself, just nerves. Nicole reached over and pressed the power button again and the wood started to spin. Once the machine was up to speed, Nicole spoke in her ear again. 

 

“Just push the chisel firmly but not too deeply into the wood...there. That’s perfect!” 

 

Waverly watched in awe as the chisel carved a widening divot into the spindle. Nicole’s warm hands held her own and she could feel Nicole nodding slightly. After a moment she reached over and turned the machine off, as Waverly withdrew the tool. Nicole stepped away from Waverly, who found herself confused at the feeling of disappointment that accompanied the movement. A moment later Nicole returned, this time with a piece of sandpaper. She stood on the other side of the machine from Waverly and inspected her work. 

 

“See! I told you this was easy. That’s exactly right!” Nicole praised. “Now we take this sandpaper and run long strokes down the wood.” 

 

Waverly watched as Nicole sanded the wood, tendons standing out in her forearms, but her eyes kept flicking from the work to Nicole’s face. Nicole’s expression was serious and her eyes were narrowed slightly as she inspected the freshly carved areas, pushing the sandpaper in to make sure everything was smoothed. Somehow she looked even prettier, hard at work, the tip of her tongue visible between her teeth and her red hair poking out of the dark scarf she’d tied it back with. Waverly shook her head to clear it, looking quickly back down at the wood when Nicole’s eyes rose slowly to catch her own. 

 

“So....uh, I saw you had some company last night?” 

 

Nicole coughed, and Waverly suddenly felt embarrassed. “Oh! I mean, I wasn’t spying on you or anything. I just...it was the book club and I noticed out of the window. I remembered you had plans, is all….” she finished abruptly. 

 

“Yes, I had a friend over,” Nicole answered simply. “Fish is still gone and we played...cards. If you must know,” she added, a joking tone in her voice. 

 

Waverly still felt flustered. “I’m sorry, of course it is none of my business! I just think you would enjoy book club. Maybe another night?” 

 

Nicole leaned forward and rested her arms on the spindle, considering Waverly boldly. She tapped a finger against her lips. “Do you...ever go out for a drink, Waverly?” she asked. 

 

Waverly opened her mouth to answer, but found herself speechless.  _ She must mean with our husbands _ , she thought. “No, Champ and I don’t go out much with other couples. He goes out with the boys sometimes, you know how boys...men, are.” 

 

Nicole laughed, loud and brassy. “Oh yes, boy men, I surely do know how they are. But I meant actually, do you go, just you?”

 

Waverly thought hard about the last time she’d been out anywhere socially without Champ. There was that one time in high school she could remember...Nicole watched her staring off into the distance, waiting patiently for her to come back. 

 

“No...nope,” Waverly eventually replied. A flicker of movement through the glass window of the side door caught her eye and her stomach dropped. 

 

Nicole didn’t notice. “There’s a little place I like to go out to, Waverly. Would you want to get a drink with me sometime?”

 

“Oh dear, Nicole, I’m sorry. Champ is home early. I need to get back over there. I haven’t even started dinner,” she fretted. 

 

Nicole’s smile was almost sad as she walked Waverly to the door, where they could see Champ parking the car in the driveway, but Waverly was too distracted to notice. “Thanks for showing me that,” Waverly said shyly, waving back at Nicole as she made her way down the walk and back over to her own house, nervousness settling in her stomach. 

 

Champ looked up from where he was collecting his things from the car and noticed Waverly. His eyes traveled to Nicole’s house, lips curling into a sneer when he saw the neighbor leaning casually in her doorway. When he focused on Waverly, his eyes held a hard look she didn’t like. 

 

“What were you doing over there, Waverly?” Champ asked, shoving his lunch pail towards her. 

 

Waverly wasn’t sure what made her lie. It was probably just easier than dealing with Champ. “There was a loud noise coming from her house, honey. I went over to ask her to quiet it down.”

 

Champ looked again at Nicole, who still stood there, a concerned look on her face. 

 

“Nosy broad, isn’t she,” he grunted, “and what’s that get-up she’s in?” 

 

“She’s uh, cleaning the garage. You’re home early,” Waverly said, changing the subject and immediately regretting her words when Champ looked quickly at her. “And I love seeing you,” she smiled toothily. “It’s just that I haven’t started dinner yet because I wanted it to be hot for you, when you got home.” She hoped this explanation would be enough to satisfy Champ, and it seemed to be. 

 

Champ rolled his eyes. “One of the guys had to be there for his wife to have a baby so we’re not going out tonight.” Waverly hurried to move towards the house; she’d make Champ a drink and settle him in front of the TV, when his meaty hand wrapped around her upper arm. 

 

“Aren’t you forgetting something, baby?” Champ leered at her, pressing his face towards hers. 

 

Waverly grimaced, was it possible that she could still smell pimentos on Champ’s breath? He pressed his mouth hard against her own in a wet, sloppy kiss. “Where’s my kiss, Waverly?” Champ said, but she could tell that his eyes were still on Nicole. She tried to kiss him back, but the grip on her arm was distracting. 

 

“Champ, ummm,” she said, struggling a little against him, “you’re hurting my arm.” 

 

A voice broke through their not-quite-embrace, as a hand shot into Waverly’s field of vision. “We haven’t met,” Nicole said loudly, her voice pitched in a different timbre than Waverly had gotten used to during their brief conversations. 

 

Champ let go of Waverly then, and she turned to look at Nicole, watching as Champ shook Nicole’s proffered hand, then wiped it obviously on his slacks. “Champ,” he offered shortly. 

 

Nicole stood to her full height, towering over Champ by at least a couple inches. “Everything okay here?” she asked. 

 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Champ answered. “I’m just greeting my wife.” 

 

“I told Nicole you were home early,” Waverly filled in hastily. 

 

“Yes,” Nicole agreed, with an overly concerned look at Champ. “I was just checking that you’re okay.”

 

“Oh,” Champ said, confusion marring his bland features. “Yeah.” 

 

Waverly wondered if she ever really believed he was handsome, but this was getting uncomfortable. “Honey, let’s go inside and I’ll make you a drink. She took Champ’s sweaty hand in her own. Bye Nicole,” she called over her shoulder, dragging her husband behind her. 

 

***

 

“Here you go, Champ,” Waverly said, bringing his coffee and saucer into the living room where Champ sat in his chair, mindlessly staring at the television. She tried to quickly go back into the kitchen but Champ grabbed her wrist. The grabbing was getting tiresome. 

 

“I don’t want you spending time with that woman,” he grunted, still staring at the television. 

 

“What?” Waverly asked, her tone hesitant. She knew he was talking about Nicole but…

 

“That Nicole woman, she rubs me the wrong way.” Champ’s face twisted into a sneer. “Plus, her husband looks like a queer. Did you see that turtleneck shirt he was wearing? He looks like one of those poet types.” He flipped his wrist in a limp gesture. “It’s probably from letting his wife wear the pants in that house.” He guffawed loudly. 

 

“Champ,” Waverly chastised gently, “that’s not very nice of you. Nicole is sweet and her husband is gone a lot. He’s….” she shook her head. Had she ever really even asked Nicole what her husband did? “He’s away,” she finished. “Anyhow, I sometimes get lonely during the day...when you’re gone,” she added hastily. 

 

Champ looked up at Waverly with a stern expression. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Waverly. I don’t want you over there when I’m not home, do you understand? It’s bad enough I let Rosarita come over here. If not for her husband having served our country...” 

 

“It’s...Rosita.” But Waverly could only sigh deeply as Champ glared at her, his grip tightening on her arm. “Yes, Champ.” 

 

***

 

That night Champ wanted to have sex again. Waverly felt like Champ was trying to prove something when he started pushing her nightgown up without even trying to kiss her first. 

 

“Champ, I’m not in the mood. I...uh…” she put her hand on his, thinking quickly. “I have my period.” 

 

Champ pulled away like she was on fire, and Waverly breathed out in relief until--

 

“Baby, there are other ways you can make Hubby happy.” Champ’s words made Waverly feel dirty and revolted, and she shivered. She heard the rustling of him pulling down his pajama pants, and thought quickly. 

 

"Champ," Waverly said firmly. "I don't want-" No, that would never work. "I can't. I have a...sore. In my mouth."

 

Champ's nose crinkled. "Ugh, don't tell me that stuff. I don't want to know that."

 

He dropped into bed, rolling onto his side and was snoring before Waverly could even get under the blankets. She rolled her eyes and huffed…but her features settled into a soft smile when she remembered the feeling of that spindle turning under her hands. 

 

***

 

“Thank god it’s bookclub night,” Waverly muttered to Wynonna over the telephone. “Champ has been positively overbearing.”

 

Wynonna scrubbed half-heartedly at a sticky spot on the kitchen cabinet door, before throwing her rag into the sink. “Your husband is literally not-even evolved beyond caveman, baby girl,” Wynonna said, now scraping at the spot with her fingernail. “What even is this? It’s so sticky. Gross, I think it’s a booger.” 

 

Waverly listened to her sister, trying to figure out what she was doing from the sounds coming through the receiver. “If it’s chewing gum, Wynonna, you should try holding ice on it.” 

 

“The only thing that needs to be put on ice is John Henry’s dick,” Wynonna muttered darkly, causing Waverly to gasp primly into the telephone. “Wynonna! Is Alice right there?”

 

Wynonna rubbed the back of her hand across tired eyes. “No, thank god. Her  _ daddy _ took her out to the park. It’s apparently his one day a week to parent our child. How did I ever get so lucky,” she added sarcastically. “Anyhow, I’m bringing sugar cookies tonight, as per usual. What are you making?”

 

Waverly smiled happily, peeking in to the oven at the creamy looking concoction bubbling away. “Chicken A La King,” she announced proudly. The condensed soup really thickens it up.”

 

“Oooo,” Wynonna salivated. “With the little frozen peas and carrots? I love that dish.” 

 

“That’s the one! See you tonight, sis,” Waverly said, with a happy flounce over to hang up the phone. 

 

***

 

“Bless you, Rosita,” Chrissy said politely, handing Rosita a handkerchief. Rosita snuffled as she wiped her nose. 

 

“I swear to god, if you girls find me frozen in the backyard, that bastard will still be alive. It’s almost like the cold revives him.” Rosita looked hastily at Chrissy’s horrified expression, then crossed herself. “Bless his soul.” 

 

“He still wants to play soldier boy in the backyard, eh?” Wynonna asked, noisily shoveling another bite of Waverly’s chicken dish into her mouth. Chrissy couldn’t seem to decide where to stare, so she just looked at Rosita and Wynonna with the same heavy judgement shared between them. 

 

Rosita sighed. “This time I was waiting for George Washington himself to ford the river into the backyard. I would have welcomed a musket ball at three in the morning. At least it would have been warm.”

 

Waverly laughed. Book club was the only time when she could share her misery.  _ Wait _ , she thought to herself.  _ Was that what this marriage to Champ had been reduced to? The butt of a joke? Shared misery? _ She looked around at her friends and her sister, laughing ruefully at their lot. Even Chrissy’s husband was a obsessive compulsive perfectionist, the perfect type to be a bookkeeper. Waverly could swear that Chrissy’s smile radiated pure stress, more than satisfaction, since she’d married Perry. Chrissy sipped deeply from her little glass of sherry. She always insisted that she’d have “just a taste” at book club, yet the bottle was frequently half depleted by the end of the night. 

 

She relaxed into the sofa while Chrissy told a frankly boring story about Perry being disappointed when she switched up his daily bowl of hot cereal to Wheatena. Apparently he’d been eating Cream of Wheat his entire life. They were just so...ordinary. Waverly was thinking about what it might be like to have a normal husband with regular tastes, when she realized that everyone was staring at her. “What?” she asked, looking around. 

 

“It’s your turn, Waves,” Wynonna said, “tell us what stupid thing Champion Chump did this week.”

 

Waverly rolled her eyes at her sister, then surprised herself. “Champ wants me to choke him during sex.” 

 

“I’m so sorry!” Rosita yelped, covering her mouth with a napkin as Chrissy gagged, wiping disgustedly at the mouthful of Chicken A La King that Rosita had spit all over her front upon hearing Waverly’s admission. 

 

Waverly found that while normally she might have been embarrassed to share such information...she just wasn’t. An unfamiliar fire burned in her chest. Champ was just too much sometimes. 

 

“Yes,” she continued. “He calls it ‘the thing’.” Waverly deepened her voice, in imitation of Champ. “Do the thing, babe.” She rolled her eyes, disgusted. “It’s humiliating, frankly.” 

 

“Well I can’t say I’m surprised,” Wynonna announced loudly. “I always knew Champ had a freaky side. No one can have teeth that white and be normal.” 

 

Chrissy spoke up quietly from where she’d folded herself primly into the armchair, Pierre perched in his usual spot on her knees. “So...you don’t actually do it, do you, Waverly?” 

 

_ She actually looks interested _ , Waverly thought, amused.

 

“Of course I do!” Waverly said. “He’s my husband. But this last time I maybe did it…a little too hard?  Anyhow,” she joked, “who doesn’t want to kill their husband sometimes?” She looked around at the girls, an apologetic grimace on her face, then laughed a little too loudly, wondering if she’d gone too far. 

 

“Here here!” Rosita agreed, raising her wine glass. Waverly relaxed as they all laughed and settled back into sipping their drinks and gossiping. 

 

***

 

Waverly sat in the driver’s seat of Champ’s car for the first time in her life. She thought about sitting on her daddy’s knee when she was a little girl, as he steered the car around their pasture. Daddy was drunk most of the time so it must have seemed like a good activity to do with his young daughter. 

 

Waverly knew how to drive. She’d learned before she married Champ, but once they were married he’d always said he would drive. After a while it turned into him revealing that he didn’t feel that it was proper for women to drive. Until today when she sat there, her palms slick with nerves. That morning Champ had been oddly apologetic about their argument the day before.  _ Maybe he actually picked up on the cold shoulder, _ Waverly thought. 

 

“Okay, Waverly,” Champ said from the passenger seat of the car, “I figure if you can drive the car you can use it for errands occasionally. Maybe if you’re more busy you won’t spend so much time bumming around the neighborhood.”

She looked at Champ, who continued to lecture her in his frankly obnoxious voice. When did his voice get so...grating, Waverly wondered. 

 

“And that’s the gas pedal,” Champ finished, pointing at her feet. Waverly decided that it wasn’t worth her time to remind Champ that she’d driven a car before. 

 

“Now remember, this baby is pretty powerful, Waves.” He thumped his chest. “That’s why they call it the Champion. I’m going to get out and wait in the driveway while you back her out. Just put it into reverse with your foot on the brake, and slowly ease off. It’s like stepping off the scale,” he said, winking and pinching some non-existent fat on Waverly’s side. 

 

“Yes, dear,” she answered, ever the dutiful wife. 

 

The sound of the car door slamming was a welcome relief after Champ’s incessant chatter. Waverly took a moment to revel in the silence, before turning the key and bringing the big car to life. She glanced into the rearview mirror to see Champ standing behind the car, gesturing impatiently. Sighing deeply once again, Waverly put the transmission into reverse, her foot resting on the brake pedal just as her husband had instructed. She was just starting to roll backwards when she was startled by Champ at the passenger window, banging on the glass. 

Waverly jumped, slamming hard on the brakes and causing the car to lurch. She looked at Champ with narrowed eyes as he pulled the door open. 

 

“I’m going to roll down the window so you can hear me, babe,” he said, cranking down the glass and slamming the door, then returning to his position behind the car. Waverly began to back out again, glancing into her mirrors and steering the car as she’d learned to do years ago. 

 

“STOP!” Champ yelled, and Waverly slammed on the brakes again. She craned her neck towards the window, looking all around her. 

 

“What??” she asked. 

 

“You’re steering towards the lawn,” Champ said, frustrated. “Maybe I should just do it.” 

 

“I’ve got it, Champ,” Waverly said, annoyed, then seeing his expression, “Please, let me do it?” Champ smiled at her honeyed tone, and backed away. 

 

Waverly looked in her mirrors again and slowly rolled the car backwards. Just as she was about to stop, Champ slapped the rear of the car with a hard bang. Waverly jumped and, intending to slam on the brakes, smashed her foot down on the gas pedal. The heavy car jolted backwards and Waverly watched in horror as the rear corner of the car plowed into Champ, whose mouth rounded into a surprised “O” as he disappeared from view. The car bumped hard over...something. 

 

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” Waverly chanted, now standing on the brake pedal, both hands pressed to her mouth in horror. She quickly put the car in park and watched the mirrors, waiting for Champ to pop back into view, but a tremble ran through her entire body when she heard a weak banging noise from the rear of the car. Waverly watched her own hands reach for the door handle and open the door, as if in a daze. She walked slowly to the back of the car, afraid of what she was going to find there. 

 

The first thing Waverly saw was Champ’s arm, bent at an unnatural angle, poking out under the bumper. It was just as horrible as she had imagined. Champ lay with the side of his chest pinned under the car tire, his other hand slapping weakly at the fender. 

 

Her mind flashed to the time she’d dropped a ham salad party loaf on the kitchen floor. Just...meat everywhere. 

 

“Waverly...you...bimbo,” he coughed, “you ran...me over.” 

 

“Language, Champ,” Waverly chastised, horrified by the sight up him pinned like a bug. Then seeing the pained look he gave her, “I’m sorry! What do I do?”

 

“Move...the car, dummy,” Champ coughed and a spray of blood splattered on the shiny paintwork. Waverly could see blood trickling from Champ’s mouth and staining his shirt.  _ That can’t be good _ , she thought, running back to the driver’s seat. 

 

“Hang on, honey,” she screamed, putting the car quickly into reverse, then pausing and throwing it back into park. She ran around the rear of the car. “Should I go forward or backwards?” she fretted, twisting her dress in her hands. 

 

Champ lifted his head a few inches with a gasp. “Forward,” he whispered, as Waverly started to run back to the driver’s side. “No! Backwards,” he groaned. 

 

“Okay, okay.” Waverly put the car in drive and lurched forwards, cringing when she heard a weak scream from Champ. “Oh god!” she cried, running back to the trunk. Champ now lay pinned by one leg, the tire having moved off his chest but forward over his legs. 

 

Tears rolled down his face. “Marrying you instead of...Stephanie...Jones...was the worst decision I ever…made,” Champ groaned. “You are...so...stupid.” 

 

Now Waverly was crying, but she wasn’t sure it was for the same reasons as Champ.  She leaned over him. “Baby, honey, I’m going to move the car again okay, and then we’ll get you to the hospital. She patted his chest, a little roughly, and Champ coughed on her, barely able to speak at this point. He really needed medical attention, Waverly thought. She ran back to the driver’s seat and sat for a moment, anger clouding her vision. “How dare he,” she said aloud. “This is all his fault. Who bangs on a car when someone is driving?” Before Waverly knew what was happening, she’d thrown the transmission into reverse again and stomped on the brake. 

 

The car jumped, thumping hard, and lurching to a halt when Waverly applied the brakes. As she sat there, Waverly noticed that birds were singing in the nearby trees. The sun shone and the little gnomes on Nicole’s front lawn looked cute. Waverly considered that maybe she should get some lawn ornaments, maybe some of those cute flamingos she’d seen in a magazine, when she realized where she was again. 

 

“Oh god,” Waverly whispered to herself, “what have I done?”

 

Slowly exiting the car, she made her way around to the back. Champ looked almost peaceful lying there. If not for the blood trickling from his mouth and staining the concrete around him, he might have just decided to take a nap under the car. Waverly dragged her palms over her cheeks, cramming her fingers into her mouth to keep from screaming. She looked at Champ for a beat, then ran inside and dialed for an ambulance. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1096073774972121093) and [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) on Twitter for a good time.
> 
> Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who enjoyed some good car running over action. Let's see how our girls handle it now.  
> Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

Chapter 4

Rosita blew a piece of hair from her face that had fallen from her ponytail. She shivered a little, pulling one of The General’s scratchy wool army blankets around her. She coughed a little at its overwhelming scent of dust despite the many washes she had put it through. Looking up at the sky, she thanked her lucky stars that it was nice outside at the moment. 

Every week The General demanded one day of camping outside. “Like I did back in the war,” he would wheeze. “Sleeping under the stars turns boys into men.”

Thought Rosita was pretty sure that’s what prostitutes were for. 

There was a small ‘pop’ from the fire and Rosita leaned closer to it. She used the poker from the fireplace to poke the can she had placed in the middle of it. The can was filled with a mix of petroleum and some of the gunpowder that The General had her store in the backyard shed. It didn’t look quite ready to take a look at yet so she sat back on the log she was sitting on. 

The General was sitting across from her in his wheelchair, basically cocooned in thick blankets as he muttered to himself. His two large collies, Robert E. Lee and Nathan Forrest, sat on either side of him, large heads on their paws.

“You know, Lupita,” The General coughed. Rosita swore she saw dust come out of his mouth. “It was on a night like this that I was almost scalped by an Injun.”

Rosita squinted at him, tilting her head. “What war were you in?”

“ _The_ war,” he wheezed as if it took every ounce of air in his lungs to do so.

That was always the furthest they got in digging into the mystery that was The General’s war record. 

Rosita could hear the tinny ring of the rotary phone coming from in the kitchen and she quickly poked her can out of the fire before she stood up. It was getting later which meant that something interesting must be happening in the neighborhood. Setting her poker down, she got up and let the blanket fall to the ground as she rushed into the kitchen. 

“Hello?” she said into the phone. She leaned against the counter where she could see outside, just to make sure The General didn’t roll into the fire as he kept prattling on, presumably not realizing she was no longer with him.

“Rosita, it’s Chrissy,” came her voice over the phone. It was low and muted like she was trying to keep her voice down by covering the receiver with her hand. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Rosita asked, interest instantly peaked.

“Champ is dead.”

Rosita just stared straight ahead at what appeared to be The General pantomiming loading a gun in his lap. At least...that’s what she hoped he was doing.

“He’s… _what_?” Rosita asked.

“Dead, Rosie. Do you have cotton in your ears?”

Rosita could hear Pierre’s little whine in the background. “How?”

“Waverly _ran him over_.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Please do not take the Lord’s name in vain-”

“That bitch killed her husband,” Rosita said, amusement clear in her voice.

Chrissy audibly gasped. “Rosita! A man died-”

“Now come on, Chris, I wouldn’t go as far as calling him a man.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Is Waves okay?” Rosita asked, steering clear of more touchy subjects.

Chrissy sighed. “She’s at the police station. But don’t worry, I’m sure my dad will go easy on her. I mean, it’s not like she did it on _purpose_.”

Rosita licked her lips and kept her doubts on the accidental nature of the incident to herself.

“You think she’s still on for the book club this week?”

“I’m sure.”

***

Waverly twisted the hanky between her fingers so tightly that she could feel the integrity of the cloth breaking under the pads. She sniffled as she looked down at it, the nail on her thumb getting caught on the embroidered ‘CH’ in flowing letters on the corner. She didn’t quite remember where she’d grabbed it from. It must have been stuffed in the glove box and she grabbed it when she called the police.

The lights buzzed overhead and the sharp smell of metal and cleaner clung to her nostrils. Her hands shook and she looked up at Sheriff Nedley who was sitting across from her. She was sure she looked like a mess; her eyes red and puffy and throat burning with tears. 

Waverly let out a shaky exhale and reached for the glass of water sitting on the metal table between them.

“Waverly,” Nedley said, tone comforting. “Are you all right?”

A small sob bubbled up in Waverly’s throat and she deftly put the hanky to her mouth to catch it. She nodded and sniffled, delicately wiping a tear away from her cheek with the hanky.

“I just loved him so much,” Waverly managed, voice scratchy from all the crying. She took a small sip of the water. “We were trying for a baby and-”

She cut herself off with a sniffle. She kept trying to remember if she turned off the oven. It had been driving her crazy for the hours she’d been in the police station.

“I just don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself,” Waverly said, shoulders hunched forward and arm slung across her stomach, that hadn’t stopped aching since Champ stopped moving.

“Well, let me assure you that if you need anything, you know where to find me,” Nedley said, leaning a little towards Waverly. “We’ve asked all the questions we need to ask and you can go with Wynonna now.”

Waverly let out a small sob of relief, nodding as she stood up from her chair. Nedley rushed to help her, supporting her under the elbow like an injured baby bird and leading her out of the cold box of a room. The sounds of the police station hit her right away. The constant ringing of phones and the thick smell of cigarettes in the air. 

Nedley led her out to the waiting room where Wynonna was sitting, house dress covered up by her long, brown mink coat and a handkerchief tied on her head covering her hair. Waverly took in her perfect red lipstick and suddenly wondered what she must look like next to her beautiful sister. Her light blue dress with white piping had a spot of blood on the bottom from when Waverly knelt besides Champ to check his pulse. There was also a misting of blood across her torso from when Champ coughed on her before he died.

Wynonna stood up as soon as she saw Waverly, reaching for her and pulling her into her arms. Waverly sniffled, face pressed against her sister’s neck as her arms enveloped her.

“Take her home, Wynonna,” Nedley said. “She needs a good long sleep.”

“I’ve been saying that about you for years, Nedley, how’s that been working out?” Wynonna said. Her words rumbled comfortingly in her chest and Waverly sighed.

“Just get her home,” Nedley sighed. Waverly could hear the sound of his boots echoing against the linoleum as he walked away and Wynonna leaned back a little to look at Waverly. 

“You okay, baby girl?” Wynonna whispered, concern swimming in her eyes. 

Waverly nodded. “Can we just go home?”

“Of course,” Wynonna said, pressing a quick kiss to Waverly’s forehead and throwing her arm around her to lead her outside. They walked quietly to Wynonna’s car, Waverly’s thoughts swirling.

Champ was...dead. She ran him over. With their car. And now he was-...

Waverly breathed out one final sigh of relief as they pulled out of the police station. She pulled down the sunshade of the car and used the mirror to check her makeup. It wasn’t _too_ bad, she concluded. 

“Waves,” Wynonna started, glancing over at Waverly as she drove. “Did you-...was it really an accident?”

Waverly thought back to seeing Champ in the rearview mirror. To seeing the spit flying from his mouth, face red as he yelled at her. Berated her. She thought of how she pressed down on the gas and-

“Of course, Wynonna,” Waverly said cautiously,. “What else would it be?”

Wynonna stopped at a red light and stared at Waverly. Waverly stared back, cheeks heating with each moment that Wynonna’s blue eyes searched her face. 

“Okay,” Wynonna said turning back to the road just as the light turned green.

***

Waverly woke up with a smile on her face, sun shining through the curtains and warming her skin. She stretched her limbs across the bed, enjoying all the space she had and the feeling of the cool sheets next to her. Pushing her face into her pillow, she turned on her belly and sighed into it.

Wynonna dropped Waverly off at her place, even if Wynonna seemed convinced she should sleep over with her. The last thing Waverly wanted to be was a burden, and really she just wanted to be in her own home by herself. 

She had peeled her dress off and hung it on the back of her closet to attempt to clean later, and slipped between the sheets, fading off to sleep far faster than she had expected. 

For a moment, Waverly forgot that Champ was gone. She could still smell the hint of his sweat on the sheets, sour and reeking of alcohol. But then the events of the night before came rushing back to her in a wave and her smile faltered. Her fingers curled into her pillowcase as she groaned. 

Now what?

She pried open an eye to look at the clock. Already eight thirty. She was usually up, dressed, hair and makeup done, and making Champ’s breakfast by now. She must have been way more exhausted than she thought the night before.

Then she realized...she had nothing to do.

Sure she could get up, get dressed and put her makeup on but...then what? She could make dinner but...it seemed silly to make dinner for just herself. Maybe she would just go over to Wynonna’s. Even then, she had a whole day in front of her with...quite frankly, no shit to do.

“Huh,” she muttered to herself as she slowly opened her eyes to look at the ceiling. She stretched, another self-indulgent movement of her muscles as her joints popped in a satisfying way. She leisurely got out of bed, the silk of her nightgown feeling good against her skin. Scrunching up her toes on the sun warmed carpet, Waverly padded into the restroom. 

She took her sweet time taking a bath and putting her makeup on, finally emerging from her room dressed about an hour later. Now what was she to do? She was long over her book and she could kill -er...she would _love_ another but Champ wouldn’t be home to drive her to the library-

Oh. Right. 

Champ. She didn’t need his permission to go anywhere anymore or to use the car. Her eyes landed on the car keys in the bowl near the door and her chest expanded a little. That’s all she needed. A little bit of fresh air and a new book would do her some good. Maybe she could pick up a bagel or something on the way home to nibble on.

Waverly picked up her handbag before getting the keys from the bowl and squeezed them in her palm as she walked out of the house and locked it up. She let her eyes wander over to Nicole’s house for a glimpse at a sign of life, but her curtains were drawn again and she couldn’t hear anything from the garage.

Sighing in disappointment, Waverly walked over to the garage door before stopping in her tracks. On the driveway was a dark, red stain, practically black at this point. It looked thick and almost...sludgy. When Waverly blinked her eyes, she could see Champ lying on his back, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. 

Perhaps a trip to the grocery store for some heavy cleaners was necessary too.

***

Waverly hummed to herself as she pushed her cart through the aisle of the grocery store. The music played overhead as her heels clacked against the linoleum of the aisle. Her cart was loaded up with two large bottles of bleach and a various array of cleaners in hopes that at least one of them would do the trick. 

She figured it wouldn’t hurt to pick up some other things while she was here. Almost unconsciously, she tossed a box of those new Mike and Ike candies she’d heard Rosita go on and on about into her cart, and was heading into the snack aisle. 

This was the first time that Waverly could leisurely walk through the store without worrying about Champ waiting impatiently in the car for her to return so he could drive her home. He would always insist on grabbing a box of crackers or something Waverly had just bought and ripping it open to eat it all before they even got home. Waverly hated sitting next to him in the car while he shoved handful after handful of crackers into his mouth, crumbs falling on the seat dropping onto the floor.

But she drove _herself_ here which meant that she could take as long as she wanted. She hummed as she dropped a box of crackers into her basket.

“Hey, Waverly,” Nicole said, making Waverly jump in surprise, clutching the jar of Cheese Whiz to her chest. Her face immediately broke into a smile and Waverly sighed.

“Oh, hi, Nicole,” Waverly exhaled, hands suddenly feeling slick on the jar in her hands. Waverly couldn’t help how her eyes flickered over Nicole’s body, taking in her trousers and men’s shirt tied neatly in a knot to fit her curves better. Waverly’s mouth dried and she looked back up at Nicole who had a sly smile on her face that made her blush. “How...nice to run into you here.”

“Yeah, it is,” Nicole said leaning forward on her basket with that same look she always seemed to have when regarding Waverly. Her brown eyes flickered down to Waverly’s basket and she snickered. “What’s all this bleach for? You cleaning up a murder scene or something?”

Waverly’s heart jumped to her throat for a moment and she was sure her face had gone white. She probably looked like a deer stuck in the headlights and it was obvious Nicole could tell because her smirk fell.

 _Murder_ was a strong word, she thought to herself. Because murder implied that it wasn’t an accident. But it was...right? It was an accident. It’s not like Nicole was actually...on to something. There was no way. It was impossible. 

“I um…” Waverly bit the inside of her cheek, throat constricting. “Champ...died...yesterday.”

Nicole’s mouth turned to an ‘o’ and she straightened up. “Oh...my god.”

“There was an...accident.”

“I am so sorry,” Nicole said, automatically stepping closer to Waverly. She reached out and put her hand on Waverly’s, resting on the shopping cart, and she felt sparks erupt between their skin. 

Waverly looked down at their hands for a moment, marveling at little scars around Nicole’s knuckles that she wanted to ask about. Instead she looked up at Nicole, her hazel eyes watery and vulnerable and wow...this woman really was something. 

“It’s fine,” Waverly said in a small voice. She tilted her head and politely sniffled, her free hand moving up to wipe away a tear that hadn’t followed yet. “It was...quick. I’ll be fine. I just need to...get rid of the stain. On the driveway. I can’t look at it.”

“Of course,” Nicole said, voice soft and soothing. “Do you need help? Do you want me to do it?”

“Oh, no no, I couldn’t ask that of you,” Waverly said, shaking her head and patting the top of Nicole’s hand that was still covering hers. “Really. I have to do this myself.”

“Are you-? How are you doing? How are you even out right now?” 

Waverly felt another spike of panic. Maybe she wasn’t acting...distraught enough. Maybe she seemed too plase about the whole thing. She cleared her throat and looked back down as she tried to make herself look distressed.

“I have to keep busy. Or else-” Waverly shook her head, hand on her mouth to indicate it was too hard to continue.

“Waverly, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s all right,” Waverly hiccuped, small delicate nod to her head. “I should get going though.”

“Right, of course,” Nicole said with one last squeeze to Waverly’s hand before pulling her own away. “Well just...let me know if you ever need anything, okay?”

Looking up into Nicole’s big, brown eyes only increased Waverly’s need to get away. Simply because she wanted to lean forward and get closer to her and that was more terrifying than the image of her husband under the back tire of her car.

“I will,” Waverly said, already backing away, hands on the cart and eyes still on Nicole. She could feel a cold sweat prickling under the collar of her dress. She quickly turned the corner of the grocery aisle and let out a small sigh of relief.

***

Pulling into the parking lot of the library, Waverly couldn’t keep her neighbor out or her mind. About that look on her face that made Waverly think she could see into her mind and see that maybe she wasn’t exactly...sad that Champ was gone. 

Although, she figured it could be the type of thing that hit her later. Maybe in a few hours the loneliness would hit her like a train and she would be inconsolable. 

Slamming the heavy door of the car, Waverly walked up to the front of the library. She pushed her way inside, a draft instantly over taking her and the noise from the outside sealing away as soon as the door shut behind her. She could smell the comforting scent of old books and musty paper, excitement lighting in her veins as she looked around at the tall shelves. 

“Wow,” she breathed to herself. She caught the eye of the librarian who was scrutinizing her suspiciously. Waverly gave her a big smile and immediately ducked into the closest aisle. She looked at the labels and saw she was in the “carpentry” section. 

Her mind wandered to elegant fingers over her own, guiding her movements along a wooden spindle. She shivered and pulled a random book from the shelf. 

“The Basics Of Carpentry” 

Waverly tucked it to her chest and moved through the book shelves to another section. 

She remembered when, instead of finding a babysitter, her Daddy would drop her off at the library every morning until Wynonna came by after school to pick her up. For hours she would immerse herself in the shelves under the watchful eye of her Aunt Gus, the librarian at the time. These days Gus mostly just enjoyed her time being retired on a ranch a few miles outside of town. 

After picking out a few more books, Waverly took the stack up to the counter and placed them on the desk in front of the librarian, a small, graying woman with skin like water damaged paper. She smiled widely at her but the woman just blinked owlishly at Waverly from behind her glasses. 

“Library card?”

“Oh, right,” Waverly said opening up her pocketbook and pulling out an old, barely used card. The librarian took it with shaky fingers and set it on the counter as she started to go through the books. 

The older woman held up the carpentry book. “Picking up something for your husband, dear?” she wobbled. 

Waverly felt her smile strain but she managed to keep it in place. “Yep.”

It was easier to just agree than to explain how she had a trunk full of household cleaners to clean up her husband’s blood from the driveway. 

The librarian just made little grunts and muttered comments to herself as Waverly wrote out her name in the cards. The librarian stamped the date on the cards and filed them away. 

“Thank you,” Waverly said, quickly gathering the books in her arms and heading for the door. She took one last deep breath of the musty air and walked out of the library back into the sun.

***

_My need is such I pretend too much. I'm lonely but no one can tell-_

Waverly sat back into the cushions of her couch, bare feet curled under her and her heels kicked off onto the floor. She had a book perched on her lap and a self satisfied smile on her face. 

As soon as she’d come home, she’d put away the groceries and tackled the blood stain in the driveway which...ended up being easier than she imagined. She scrubbed the concrete with a stiff brush, poured some bleach on it and it was as good as new. In the dark recesses of her mind, she mused on the fact that it was like Champ was never even there.

After that, Waverly got herself a slice of jellyroll and settled in with her books. The big stack of them sat on her coffee table and she was already halfway through her book. It was like the smile on her face was permanent, the freedom of the day delighting her. Who knew that having nothing to do would be so...amazing.

_You've left me to dream all alone_

She was finishing off the last bit of her treat with a self-indulgent moan when the phone rang. Waverly let her fork fall back to the plate with a small clink before reaching for the phone on the stand next to the couch.

“Hello,” she greeted, as she leaned forward to set her plate on the coffee table.

“Hello, baby girl,” Wynonna said over the line, the sound of Alice screaming distantly in the background. “I just called to see how you were.”

Waverly sighed wistfully. “It’s been a _great_ day,” Waverly said. “I woke up, went to the grocery store and the library...the _library_ , Wynonna. By myself. And I drove for the first time in years. It’s been marvelous.”

There was an uncharacteristic silence over the line before Wynonna spoke up again. “Waves, as much as I love what an amazing day you had...your husband died less than twenty-four hours ago.” Waverly felt her stomach clench in the same way it had earlier with Nicole. Guilt and panic spreading icy cold from her chest to the tips of her fingers.

It wasn’t _murder_. It was an accident.

“I didn’t kill him,” Waverly said quickly, her book sliding off her knees and onto the couch without a second thought. “It was an accident.”

“Woah, Waves, I didn’t say you did,” Wynonna said. “Are you okay? I wasn’t a fan of Champ, you know that. But I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Wynonna,” Waverly said. She could feel a small headache starting in her temples. “I’m just...you know. Trying to stay busy to get over the grief.”

“If you say so, Waves,” Wynonna said. Waverly could hear all of the doubt in her voice. “Want to come over? Want me to go over there? Want me to go with you to the funeral home?”

Waverly forgot she was expected to do that. She wasn’t sure how much more crying she could take to be honest.

“I’ll handle all of that...tomorrow,” Waverly said, voice strained. “I don’t feel like even thinking about it tonight.”

“If you say so, Waves,” Wynonna said. Alice screamed so loud in the background that Waverly had to pull her head away from the receiver for a moment. “Ugh, I gotta go. I’m going to call you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Wy,” Waverly said, barely waiting to hear the small ‘goodbye’ in response before hanging up the phone. She stared at it for a moment before looked back at her empty jellyroll plate and whispered to herself. “It was an accident.”

_Adrift in a world of my own (ooh ooh)-_

***

The next day started off in very much the same way. Waverly took her time waking up, took a leisurely shower and got dressed. She decided to make herself pancakes that morning. It used to be her favorite thing that her Uncle Curtis would make her. Sometimes he would even put chocolate in them.

But since she’d gotten married, Waverly found herself eating toast and fruit for breakfast instead, something light, while Champ would wolf down a whole stack of pancakes drenched in syrup by himself.

While Waverly was washing her dish in the sink, there was a soft knock on the door. 

Delighted by the idea of visitors, Waverly practically bounced over to the door and opened it. Nicole stood there in her cigarette pants and button up shirt, a covered dish in her hand. Waverly already found herself blushing before Nicole even said anything.

“Oh, hello,” Waverly said, smile fixed on her face. She realized she hadn’t properly put her makeup on yet or put on her best house dress and blushed. She must look a mess. She tucked away an invisible strand of hair subconsciously. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone, I must look like I just woke up-”

Nicole small chuckle stopped Waverly in her path. “You look beautiful, Waverly.”

Waverly felt like she blushed deeper than the red piping on her dress. She folded her hands in front of her and kept smiling up at Nicole in a little bit of a daze. All she could manage was a small, “Oh.”

Nicole glanced down at the dish in her hands, clearing her throat. She held it out a little proudly. “I’m not much of a cook but um...I made you a jellyroll.”

“Oh you really shouldn’t have, Nicole,” Waverly said, glancing over her shoulder just briefly to make sure that there were no remnants of the one she had just eaten. “That’s so nice of you.”

“I wanted to,” Nicole said, head tilted and red hair spilling over her shoulder. Her smile faltered a little and she looked over Waverly carefully. “Also I-...wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“If I was okay?” Waverly asked, squinting at Nicole for a moment. 

Nicole frowned briefly but managed to look more concerned than anything. “For um...Champ. Your...husband.”

Waverly blinked at Nicole a moment before it hit. She tampered down her smile and nodded gravely, hands folding in front of her. “I uh-” She cleared her throat. “-it comes and goes in waves. The grief. Would you like to come in?”

“Oh, sure,” Nicole said, smile soft and sympathetic. As soon as Waverly closed the door behind her, there was an odd sense of nerves that lit at the end of her fingertips and settled in her stomach. Nicole was here. In her home. Waverly licked her lips and gestured towards the living room.

“Feel free to have a seat,” Waverly said, gesturing towards the couch. “Would you like a drink?”

“Sure, whatever you’re having,” Nicole said as she placed the dish on the coffee table. Waverly went to the drink cart, her back towards Nicole as she took out two glasses and picked up the whiskey bottle. The glass of the bottle slipped a little in her sweaty hand and she felt her heart lurch in her chest. The last thing she needed was to embarrass herself and drop the bottle in front of Nicole. She could still feel her eyes on her and shifted, but it didn’t make her uncomfortable. Quite the opposite weirdly enough. 

It pleased her in a way, to feel Nicole watching her. It warmed her skin and made her hands shake, stomach rolling pleasurably in a way she would surely overanalyze after Nicole left.

She poured the two drinks and carried them back over to where Nicole was sitting. As soon as she turned, she made eye contact with Nicole and felt her face flush.

“Thank you, Waverly,” Nicole said, taking the drink from Waverly with a polite smile. Waverly sat down on the couch next to her, eyes flicking down to the way Nicole’s fingers curled around the glass. She remembered what it was like to have those fingers over her own, guiding the tool over the wood on the lathe. She suppressed a shiver and looked back up into Nicole’s eyes, but that didn’t help much.

“You’re more than welcome,” Waverly said softly, taking a long sip of her drink.

“Are you doing okay?” Nicole asked.

Waverly sighed - maybe a little dramatically - and nodded slowly. “I’m managing. I have to visit the funeral home tomorrow. That’ll be the hardest part.”

Nicole nodded sympathetically, eyebrows knit together in concern. “Is there anything you need?”

Waverly’s eyes caught Nicole’s gaze again and she stopped in her track, brain flatlining as she stared at Nicole. What about her was so intriguing? Why was she so fascinated by her? Was it simply because she was like no woman she’d ever met? Waverly pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Just you being here helps,” Waverly said, smiling again. She caught herself again. “You know to...distract me.”

Nicole smiled back and leaned forward to put her hand on top of Waverly’s. It felt like that time Champ scooted his socked feet along the carpet and then touched the end of Waverly’s nose to shock her, except completely lovely and pleasant. Her hand was so warm and soft but with the barest hint of a rough edge. Probably from all the woodworking she seemed to do.

“Thank you,” Waverly breathed, looking up through her lashes at Nicole. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Waves,” Nicole assured her. “I’m here if you ever need anything. _Anything_.”

“I just might take you up on that,” Waverly said, surprised by the flirty edge to her voice. Nicole seemed to catch it, something soft and vulnerable flickering across her eyes before she straightened up and pulled her hand away from Waverly’s. She felt the loss immediately, but covered it by taking another sip of her drink. She could feel something in the air crackling between them like the sparks to a fire and it frightened her. But not enough to scare her away. Yet.

“Wanna just...watch something on the television for now?” Nicole asked.

Waverly smiled at Nicole over the rim of her glass. “Sounds lovely.”

***

Waverly dabbed the corner of her eyes with her handkerchief and sniffled politely. She was sitting in a chair right next to the table where a large, framed picture of Champ in his football uniform sat, wreaths surrounding it and his urn sitting next to that. It was a hideous mustard yellow ceramic thing that was way heavier than she’d been expecting.

That morning, she had gone to the mortuary with Champ’s mother and father to pick him up. Mrs. Hardy looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks and Mr. Hardy looked like he was allergic to emotions. He patted his wife’s shoulder from an arm’s length, his face hard at the sight of his son’s ashes. Save for his dark auburn hair, he was the spitting image of Champ..

Mrs. Hardy threw herself onto Waverly, blubbering and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mascara tracked paths down her cheeks and stained the shoulder of Waverly’s dress. She felt sick when she picked up the urn, the dark reality that Champ was never coming home finally hitting her. Bile bubbled up in her throat but she swallowed it down, her chest hurting as she carried the urn to the Hardy’s car.

Now, sitting besides it in her dining room, Waverly felt...free.

In high school, Waverly always imagined she could go to school, get a degree, have a career...then worry about family and kids. But as the years went on, people started to talk her out of it. What was the point of school anyways if it was just for a “Mrs. Degree”. And when she started dating Champ...well...no one saw why she should even bother going to school. Surely Champ would just find another girl to marry while she was away,one that wasn’t so full of herself and always trying to outsmart him. “Boys don’t like when girls are smarter than them after all,” they told her. Besides, when she came back, she would be an old maid. Twenty-one and not married? What a scandal that would be.

So slowly, she started to change her expectations. School was expensive anyways. And Champ was a good boy. Captain of the football team, well liked...and wouldn’t they make the prettiest babies?

Waverly had gotten used to this life, liked it even. She could get up every morning, cook, watch some television, cook again...talk to her friends. It was fun! It was fun and easy in the mindless way these things usually were, but they kept her busy enough to not really think about it.

But now with Champ gone, it was like the burden that had been holding her down had been lifted and the possibilities were endless.

Mrs. Hardy had plopped Waverly down in this chair as soon as the wake started, so she had been staring at Champ’s ashes for at least an hour now. Sitting here, she had let person after person she didn’t recognize come by and talk about how good of a man Champ was. Wouldn’t he be missed? She would nod and shed a single tear in acknowledgement. Thought it hadn’t been _all_ bad. People kept bringing her drinks and snacks, so really she’d just been eating the entire time. She ducked her head to look at the cat clock in the kitchen, it’s eyes and tail moving back and forth with each tick. Only a half hour?

Waverly groaned.

She was for sure dehydrated from all the tears she’d shed, crocodile and otherwise. Her conflicting emotions had been at battle all day and frankly she was exhausted. If she could just force everyone out of her home-

Waverly looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap, the black silk of her gloves brushing together in a satisfying way. She brushed down the skirt of her black dress and made sure her hat was sitting at the perfect angle on her head, mourning net helping hide part of her face. 

Wynonna’s arrival immediately caught her eye, John Henry following behind her in a sharp suit. Her sister’s eyes found her immediately and she rushed towards Waverly. 

“Baby girl,” she said, leaning down to hug Waverly tightly. It felt like something she’d been holding onto in her chest was finally shaken free. She sighed and held Wynonna tightly, sniffling again. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Waverly said, as Wynonna let go and backed away. “I’m...oddly okay.”

“I’d like to say I’m surprised but…” Wynonna looked around before leaning forward to whisper. “All week people have been saying how you were galavanting around town like a mad woman.”

Waverly rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I went to the grocery store and the library. I hardly call it _galavanting._

Wynonna hummed, arms crossing in front of her chest. A high pitched wail interrupted their conversation and Waverly looked up just in time to see Chrissy launching herself at her. She was thrown back a little by the force of her hug, but held her just as tightly. 

“Oh, Waves,” she said, squeezing her extra tight. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, Chrissy,” Waverly said, subtly pushing her away to put some distance between them. “I’m fine.”

“Poor thing, confused by grief,” Chrissy said softly, hand stroking down Waverly’s face in sympathy. 

Waverly opened her mouth to retort, but noticed Rosita walking through the door. She parked The General in a corner and made her way over to the group. Waverly noticed John Henry and Perry at the drink cart, Perry in an expensive mohair suit, and rolled her eyes.

Just as Rosita made her way to their group, Waverly couldn’t help but have her eyes be drawn back to the door where was Nicole walking in. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she stood up, hands clasped nervously in front of her.

Nicole looked around for a moment, searching for a familiar face. Waverly waved at her, their eyes catching and making her smile. Nicole smiled back, eyes darting around the room nervously again before she approached Waverly.

“Hey, Waves,” Nicole said as she approached, dimples popping. Waverly could feel the rest of the girls’ eyes darting between her and Nicole but tried to ignore it. Not that it was hard with Nicole looking at her like that. 

“Hi, Nicole,” Waverly said breathily. “Thank you for coming over.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Nicole said, shrugging and clasping her hands behind her back. They stared at each other a moment longer before Wynonna cleared her throat. 

“Oh, right,” Waverly blushed, “Nicole, meet my sister Wynonna. And Rosita and Chrissy. Everyone, my neighbor Nicole.”

Everyone waved politely and Wynonna had a smirk on her face that Waverly did not want to interpret at the moment. 

“So Nicole, I heard you were joining our book club soon,” Rosita said. 

“Oh. Um-“

“Yeah, we’re excited to have you,” Chrissy said politely. 

Nicole looked back at Waverly who just smiled and shrugged again. She looked back at the other women. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“Good!” Wynonna said with a suspicious grin. 

“Alright well, I’ll leave you be,” Nicole said, slowly backing away. “I’m going to um...go.”

“Let me walk you to the door,” Waverly said quickly. Nicole gave one last wave to the group as Waverly fell in step besides her. They made their way through the groups of people in the house, Waverly leading. She could feel the slight heat of Nicole’s hand hovering over her lower back and wished she could lean back into it. Which was an odd feeling, really, and she couldn’t pinpoint why she felt that way.

She breathed a sigh of relief as they walked out onto the front porch, the noise from the wake shutting out behind them.

“Thank you again for coming,” Waverly said as she turned around to look at Nicole again.

“It’s not a problem, I wanted to,” Nicole said, sad smile on her face that made Waverly want to melt. “Please, let me know if you need anything.”

“I-...thank you,” Waverly said. She looked over to the driveway and felt a sudden surge of sadness wash over her. She cleared her throat and looked down briefly. “I appreciate it, Nicole.

Waverly nodded and they looked at each other a beat too long to remain normal and not awkward. Nicole cleared her throat and tipped an invisible hat at Waverly. “See you later, Waves.”

“See you later,” Waverly said, watching as Nicole stepped off the porch and back towards her house. But Waverly couldn’t help it, she took another look over her shoulder at Nicole one last time before she opened her own door.

Waverly slipped back inside, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her smile at bay. She made her way back towards the girls, all of them staring at her.

“What?” Waverly said with a shrug.

“Nothing,” Wynonna said with a wink. “Just...interested in the new neighbor is all.”

“Well, you were acting a bit peculiar with her,” Chrissy said, tilting her head. “And in front of your dead husband.”

They all looked over at the table where the ugly mustard urn sat. 

“Oh, I didn’t see him there,” Rosita said, quickly crossing herself. 

“She’s just an interesting friend,” Waverly said, picking up her drink from the table. “Just a friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1098614670766661632) and [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) on Twitter for a good time.
> 
> Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> While we continue our fight for Wynonna, I hope this chapter brings some slight relief or joy. Things start to...heat up between Nicole and Waverly. Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

Waverly hummed to herself as she took a heaping spoonful of ham salad and let it land in the loaf pan with a ‘ _splunk_ ’. She spread it out in a nice thick layer over the layer of white bread she had just pressed into the bottom of the pan. 

Now that Champ wasn’t around to make dinner for, she had grown accustomed to making it for Wynonna instead. It gave her something to do and Wynonna hoped that maybe it would mean Doc would be home more. Tonight she was making her famous frosted ribbon loaf. Layers of ham salad and egg salad separated by layers of bread and all held together with cream cheese.

It was the one Doc always requested when he came over and Waverly happily obliged.

Today she wore a pale pink dress she had sewn from one of her patterns, with a delicately floral embroidered cream-colored apron over it, to protect her dress from flying mayonnaise. As she started placing another layer of bread, her eyes wandered up from the menial task towards Nicole’s house. She thought she saw some movement behind the curtains and her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t notice how her hands had stopped moving as she waited for another hint of movement. 

Nothing.

She sighed and looked back down at her loaf that was coming along perfectly, if she did say so for herself. One more layer of egg salad and she would be done.

The doorbell rang and she set the spoon down in the bowl of egg salad, walking through the living room to get the door. Wynonna groaned from behind her big sunglasses, the white frames contrasting her pale skin and red lipstick perfectly, and Waverly smiled. 

“Hi, Wynonna!”

“Ugh, your sunshine sweet smile is making my head hurt,” Wynonna said, pushing past Waverly and going into the house. “I have the worst hangover.”

Waverly chuckled and shut the door behind her as Wynonna went about closing all the curtains in the house. When she went for the curtain to the window facing Nicole’s house, however, Waverly scoffed and opened it back up.

Wynonna finally took off her sunglasses and started to light a cigarette. 

“Long night last night?” Waverly asked as she went back to her loaf.

Wynonna just grunted and took a deep drag of her cigarette. “I’ve had longer.” She paused and shrugged. “John Henry didn’t come home last night. Again.”

Waverly felt a pang of sympathy for her sister. “I’m sorry, Nonna,” Waverly said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just help me get rid of my husband like you got rid of yours,” Wynonna said flatly. Waverly felt herself freeze up at the implication as she looked back at Wynonna. She waved some of the smoke away from her face and squinted at Waverly. “Sorry. Too soon? Are you still pretending to be sad he’s gone? It’s been a whole week-”

“He was my husband,” Waverly said firmly. “I loved him very much.”

“Sure, right,” Wynonna said, in a not all convincing way. 

“I did love him,” Waverly said, a little softer. “He was...handsome. He just didn’t make me feel…” 

Another movement from Nicole’s caught her eye and this time she was rewarded with the sight of Nicole leaving her house in the same men’s coveralls she’d seen her in before. The top half of the coveralls were peeled down and the arms were tied around her waist to reveal the men’s work shirt she wore underneath, her hair again pulled back with a blue scarf . Waverly watched with rapt attention as Nicole lifted up the heavy garage door, muscles on her forearms bulging and rippling with the movement.

“...like I wanted to just be held by him. Like I was his entire world. I didn’t want to kiss him and I certainly didn’t want to-” Nicole stretched her arms high over her head and Waverly choked on her own tongue. “-he didn’t make my skin hot.”

“Gross,” Wynonna deadpanned. Waverly blushed and pulled her eyes away from Nicole who had pulled the tarp off of her car with a flourish. Wynonna went to stand next to Waverly. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” Waverly said quickly, looking back down at her loaf. She started to ice it with the cream cheese.

“I see Red is handy,” Wynonna observed as Nicole lifted the heavy hood of the car.

Waverly held back her sigh and nodded instead. “She was making furniture the other day.”

Wynonna frowned and looked back at Waverly. “By...herself?”

“Yep.”

“With tools.”

“Yep.”

“Wow,” Wynonna said, actually looking a little impressed. 

Waverly fidgeted with the knife in her hand that she was using to ice the loaf.

Lately she’d been thinking a lot about Nicole. Probably more than she should. To the point that she was getting a bit...worried? Was that the right word? It reminded her of the days back in high school when Champ had started paying attention to her. He managed to be at the forefront of her mind when she found her thoughts wandering. That had faded over time but now she had the same thoughts about Nicole. 

It wasn’t natural. She knew that. Well, at least she knew people had said it wasn’t natural. But this felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“Wynonna,” Waverly started, her voice tentative. “Do you...what do you think about...homosexuals?”

Wynonna shrugged. “None of my business.”

Waverly hummed, head tilted. “What if I...was having thoughts about Nicole?”

Her ears burned at Wynonna’s silence, each second feeling like an hour before her sister finally spoke up again. “What kind of thoughts?”

“Like...wondering what it would be like to...hold her hand type thoughts,” Waverly admitted quietly, eyes still glued to the cream cheese as she spread it over the sandwich loaf. She tried to look at Wynonna from her peripherals. She was still staring out the window with a confused look on her face that did nothing to stop the nervous thoughts in Waverly’s head.

“So like...in a queer way?” Wynonna asked. 

Waverly’s face heated again and she looked over at Wynonna, already feeling tears pressing behind her eyes. “Maybe?”

Wynonna took a thoughtful drag of her cigarette and blew it out the side of her mouth. “Huh.”

“Is that-...do you-?”

Wynonna shook her head to stop Waverly’s rambles. “Baby girl, honestly, I’m just thrilled Champ is out of your life. You can schtup whoever you want to schtup.”

Waverly felt the tears wash over her, but not for the reasons she was expecting. “Really?”

“What do I care?” Wynonna said with a shrug. “Plus, it’s not like I never kissed another woman. I can see the appeal.”

Waverly gasped in mock scandal. “When?” 

“High School. Stephanie Jones,” Wynonna said, wiggling her eyebrows. “How do you think I got so good at kissing?”

With a giggle, Waverly wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. She sniffled and shook her head, dropping her knife and pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. “I’m sorry I just-...I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Baby girl,” Wynonna said, pulling Waverly into her arms. Waverly sniffled and pressed her face into Wynonna’s dark red dress. “You know I love you.”

“I know but-” Sniffle. “-it’s a bit odd. Isn’t it?”

“We’re Earps,” Wynonna said. “We’re a bit odd anyways. I just want you to be happy.”

“I don’t even know if I-...if what I’m feeling is-...true,” Waverly said, pulling away and wiping away her remaining tears. “I just know that I...want to get to know her. But I don’t even know if she-...well I’ve seen a few women go in and out of there-”

“Waves,” Wynonna interrupted. “If she doesn’t, she’s dumb. And not worth your heart anyways.”

Waverly smiled at Wynonna and looked back out the window. Nicole was now mostly out of view under the hood of the car. She stood up and wiped her forearm across her forehead, a smudge of oil interrupting her pale skin in the most charming way, before she ducked back down. Waverly’s heart lurched with want in a way that pained her, tugging and urging her to get closer to Nicole. Always closer.

Wynonna bumped her hip with Waverly’s and snickered. “Go get your girl, Waves.”

“Oh no,” Waverly said, picking back up her knife and continuing to ice the loaf with the now slightly watery cream cheese. “I’ll talk to her later.”

“Why not now when she’s all sweaty and...dirty?” Wynonna said as she took the knife from Waverly’s hands. “Go take her some...I don’t know. Lemonade or tiny sandwiches or something. Plus, I timed this perfectly to coincide with your milk man coming and I won’t complain about alone time with him.”

“The tiny sandwiches are for the book club tomorrow,” Waverly said, trying to make an excuse. 

“I’ll help you make more,” Wynonna said. “Now go.”

“Fine,” Waverly mumbled, trying to hide her excitement as she walked over to the fridge and got the plate filled with cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches. She took off her apron and tossed it haphazardly on the kitchen table before running a hand through her free flowing hair and heading for the door. 

Her heels clicked against the hot pavement, excitement settling like butterflies in her stomach. She could hear the low sound of a radio playing as she got closer but couldn’t quite figure out the song yet. When she got to the opened garage, Nicole was still head first in the hood of her car. 

Waverly cleared her throat and called, “Knock knock!”

Nicole jolted up in surprise and the loud metallic ‘ _bang_ ’ sent instant sympathy pain through Waverly’s body as Nicole’s head came in contact with the hood. 

“Fuck!” Nicole cursed, causing Waverly’s cheeks to tint. Nicole caught her slip up and despite her hand clutching her head and the pain bright in her eyes, she apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to curse.”

Waverly swore she heard Wynonna snicker from next door. 

_Why do birds sing so gay? And lovers await the break of day-_

“No _I’m_ sorry,” Waverly said as she finally rushed over to Nicole’s side. She set the plate down on a nearby stool and stood with her hands hovering near Nicole’s head, not sure what to do. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Nicole wheezed through clenched teeth, tears of pain in the corners of her eyes as he tried to smile. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not-- I can tell,” Waverly said. “Can I take a look?”

_Love is a losing game. Love can a be shame. I know of a fool, you see. For that fool is me-_

Nicole nodded and sat in a stool that was nearby. Waverly hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to Nicole, who spread her knees so that Waverly could step between them. Waverly felt her cheeks tint but tried to hide it as her hands went to the back of Nicole’s head, fingers finding the knot of her scarf. She deftly undid the fabric and pulled it away. Nicole’s long red hair fell over her shoulders in easy waves, the scent of vanilla wafting up into Waverly’s nostrils and making her head light. Without thinking, she stuffed the bandana in the belt of her dress. 

_Get it together, Waves,_ she chastised herself and cleared her throat. She stepped a little closer to Nicole to properly see the top of her head. She could feel their fronts just barely touching and the butterflies in her stomach took flight. 

_Why does my heart skip a crazy beat? Before I know it will reach defeat!_

Waverly saw the hint of a bump on the crown of her head and winced. “Okay, you have a bump...”

“It’s not bleeding?” Nicole asked, voice sounding slightly less strained. 

“Let me see,” Waverly said, reaching up and gently parting the red hair near the bump. Her hair was just as soft as Waverly imagined but she couldn’t enjoy it for long. She felt Nicole seize up a little and a hiss left her lips. “Sorry.” Waverly whispered as she smoothed out Nicole’s hair again. “It’s not bleeding.”

She took an extra moment to let her fingers brush every so lightly over the shell of Nicole’s ear and the redhead looked up at her. Waverly was startled by their closeness, more apparent with Nicole’s head tipped up and their faces so close that Waverly could almost feel her breath. Nicole’s hands were resting respectfully on her own knees but Waverly could still feel them brush the sides of her skirt from her position between Nicole’s legs. 

_Tell me why, why, why. Why do fools fall in love?_

“Thanks,” Nicole said quietly, a slow, charming smile lighting up her face and making Waverly wonder if this was all a show. 

Waverly felt her body unconsciously drifting closer to Nicole and quickly took a step back. “I’m sorry I made you hit your head.”

“Not your fault,” Nicole said as she stood back up. “I wasn’t paying attention.” She tilted her chin towards the plate of finger sandwiches. “I especially can’t be mad if those were for me.”

“They are!” Waverly said happily. She picked the plate back up and held them in front of her. “Cucumber and cream cheese!”

“Oh wow,” Nicole said with a happy smile. She went to reach for one then stopped when they noticed the grease and oil staining her hands. “Oh. Um-“

“Here,” Waverly said, picking one up without thinking. She held it out for Nicole then realized what she was suggesting. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks, especially when Nicole’s smile turned to a smirk with a cockiness Waverly didn’t miss. 

“Sure,” Nicole said, leaning forward a little, and Waverly lifted the sandwich to her mouth. Nicole’s lips closed around the sandwich, dangerously close to Waverly’s fingers. Waverly’s eyes felt glued to the motion of the sandwich disappearing into Nicole’s mouth, and she let out a satisfied groan that Waverly felt right between her legs. 

“You like?” Waverly said far more breathlessly than she intended.

“I love,” Nicole said, with her same smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Waverly said shyly. “The recipe is really easy.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Nicole said, looking back at the opened hood of the car. 

“What are you doing here?” Waverly said, wandering closer to the car. Nicole tilted her chin towards it and shrugged. 

“Just trying to fix it up,” Nicole said as she lovingly ran her hand over the frame. “She just needs a little TLC.”

Waverly stood beside Nicole at the front of the car, rested her hands on the edge of the fender and leaned forward so that she could get a better look at the inside. 

“I was just switching out the spark plugs,” Nicole said, pointing to a little contraption. Waverly wouldn’t have known the difference between that and something under her sink. She made a mental note to get an auto mechanics book from the library next time she went. 

Nicole got a little closer, leaning more into Waverly as she pointed at another part of the car. Her arm was practically across Waverly’s chest and she had a brief flash of a daydream that involved Nicole bending her over the hood of the car and-

Waverly’s cheeks heated up, so embarrassed by her own thoughts that she missed everything Nicole said about whatever she had pointed out. 

“Um, Nicole,” Waverly said, quickly changing the subject. She turned and rested her hip on the front of the car, their bodies still huddled together in the compact space. “I was...wondering if your invitation to the bar was still open.”

Nicole took a second to process before she smiled widely. “Of course it is,” she said. “I would be honored. Tonight?”

“Oh!” Waverly said, surprised by the suddenness of it all. “Sure.”

“Good,” Nicole said, tucking a strand of hair behind her own ear and spreading more grease on her cheek. 

Waverly giggled and boldly stepped into Nicole’s space. She cupped her cheek and brushed her finger over the smudge in a poor attempt to get it off. “You might need to clean up a little first,” she said with a wink.

Nicole blushed and Waverly took a step back again, hands clasped behind her back to keep them out of trouble. “You’ll come by and get me?”

“Of course.”

“What should I wear?” 

“Just bring your beautiful self,” Nicole said. Waverly cursed her ever-blushing cheeks.

“Okay,” she said a little dumbly. “I’ll um...see you later.”

Nicole’s voice was low. “See you later, Waves.”

With one final, small wave, Waverly turned around and practically skipped back to her house. When she got back inside, she leaned against the door with a dreamy sigh, heart beating. She was going out with Nicole. Tonight.

She quickly ran through the list of things she had to do in her head. She had to take a shower, pick out a new dress, fix her makeup-

_Crash_

The loud sound came from the kitchen and Waverly paused before rushing towards the kitchen. “Wynonna!”

***

Waverly was double checking her green dress in the mirror when there was a knock on the door. Her stomach twisted in anticipation and she patted her hair, down in long curls over her shoulders, one last time before grabbing her matching handbag. 

“Okay, Waverly,” she said to herself in the mirror. “This is just...a casual night out with a new friend. No reason to be weird.”

Maybe if she repeated it to herself in her mind enough times she would believe it. She could forget that all she could really think about lately was Nicole’s hands and how they moved so smoothly over the wood or how Nicole smelled like vanilla. At least she hoped she could forget all that. 

She nodded, trying to give herself some confidence as she turned around and started towards the door. The nerves started as soon as her hand touched the doorknob but she turned it just the same. 

Nicole was standing there, backlit by the streetlights, wearing wide legged pants with a deep blue men’s button up shirt tucked into them. Waverly could see the hint of suspenders peeking out from behind her long coat, that led down to her saddle shoes. 

“Hi, Waves,” Nicole said, with that charming smile that got Waverly every time.

“Hi,” Waverly said, stepping out of her house and pulling the door closed behind her. She didn’t miss the way Nicole’s eyes darted down her body and felt a thrill run through her body under the attention. 

“You look...wow, I mean...um...great,” Nicole said, hands tucked into her pockets.

“Thanks, so do you,” Waverly said, unable to pull her eyes away from Nicole’s. They stood like that for a minute, just looking at each other, before Nicole cleared her throat and took a step back. 

“I called us a cab,” she said, tilting her head over her shoulder towards the car idling on the street. 

“Perfect,” Waverly said with a wide smile. Her fingers twitched with the instinct to reach out and loop her arm through Nicole’s but just clutched her bag tighter. They walked out to the car and Nicole held the door open for her. Just the simple gesture made Waverly’s grin stretch almost painfully across her cheeks. 

Champ hadn’t held the door for her in...well maybe ever. 

She sat primly in the back, hands folded on her lap as Nicole got into the other side of the car. 

“Third street and Western,” Nicole told the cabby. He grunted and looked at them in the rear view mirror, muttering something Waverly didn’t quite understand before turning up the radio and starting down the street. 

Waverly looked over at how the streetlights highlighted the edge of Nicole’s features as she hummed along to the song. 

_You mixed me up for good right from the very start_

***

The cab stopped at a dark corner, closed storefronts all around except for one that had curtains drawn and a dim light poking out from the gaps. Waverly sat with her handbag clasped tightly in her lap, staring at their apparent destination.

“Thank you,” Nicole said to the driver, handing him some bills before she got out of the car. Waverly was still staring when Nicole opened her door for her.

“Oh,” Waverly said in surprise, blushing a little at the act. “I’m not used to-...thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Nicole said, even offering her hand for Waverly to take. She hesitated a moment before reaching out and resting her hand in Nicole’s. Her face warmed on contact, Nicole’s hand was so soft and warm. Waverly got out of the car and their hands lingered for just a few more moments as Nicole smiled at her.

Waverly lost herself for a moment in brown eyes, reflecting the streetlights, making them shine even more as the light got deepened Nicole’s dimples.

Waverly didn’t even notice the cab had already driven away until Nicole dropped her hand. Her voice was low as she nodded towards the bar.

“Let’s go, Waves.”

Waverly cleared her throat and turned towards the bar, fingers nervously playing with the clasp of her bag. Nicole opened the door for her and she stepped inside, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dim lighting as she looked around. There was a wooden bar to the right, a stage in the back and tables scattered around the room. It took a moment, but Waverly realized all the patrons were women. Some in men’s clothing, some in dresses. Some had coupled off, huddled together and talking closely, some dancing to the music that played through the smokey air of the bar. 

She blinked, eyes finally adjusted to the lighting, and she realized that it felt like...a lot of people were staring at her.

Her fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm on her handbag and she looked behind her to see Nicole putting her coat on a hook. She somehow looked even more stunning out of it, the flare of her hips more apparent, and she stopped to roll her sleeves up to her elbows. 

Nicole smiled at her and suddenly Waverly forgot about the other people. 

“There’s a table over there,” Nicole said, stepping close to Waverly, hand gentle on her lower back to guide her. Waverly went willingly, thankful for the table in the dark corner, lit only with a candle in the middle. Nicole even pulled out the chair for her and she sat. 

“What can I get you to drink, Waves?” Nicole asked. 

“Martini, please,” she said automatically. “Two olives.”

“You got it,” Nicole said before she headed over to the bar. 

That’s when it hit Waverly. 

Was she on...a date?

She blinked a few times, looking around the room at the other women. Most had returned to their own conversations but there were a few women also dressed in men’s clothing who would occasionally cast a curious glance her way. Waverly licked her lips and pushed some of her hair behind her ear.

Was she on a _date_? With a woman... with… _Nicole_?

Waverly went through her mental checklist.

Nicole picked her up, they dressed nicely, she held open doors for her, she was at a bar getting her a drink...seemed like a date.

On her first date with Champ, they went out to a soda shop after a football game. All of Champ’s buddies ended up joining them about halfway through the date and they ended up at the quarry. Waverly sat near the car, bored, while the football players got drunk and started throwing rocks at each other.

Waverly looked back at Nicole who was leaning back against the bar and just looking at her. Waverly blushed, hoping it wasn’t apparent in the dim lighting, and smiled shyly before looking back down at the candle flickering on the table in front of her.

Maybe she was on a date with Nicole. It was odd that despite Waverly coming to terms with her...feelings for Nicole, not to mention the blatant flirting back and forth, it had never come to Waverly’s mind what the...next step of that might be. A date was a logical next step it seemed. But Waverly hadn’t gotten that far in her daydreams yet.

Nicole came back with two drinks, sitting Waverly’s down in front of her before sliding into her own chair.

“Thank you,” Waverly said, taking the glass and holding the delicate stem between her fingers. She took another glance around the room and leaned a little towards Nicole. “So everyone here...is a woman.”

Fear flashed across Nicole’s face for a moment. “I...is this okay?”

“Oh, yes, yes,” Waverly quickly assured her, “I just...have never been anywhere like this before.”

“You’re sure?” Nicole asked again.

“Of course,” Waverly said, leaning forward on the table on her elbows. Nicole mirrored her move, the worry gone from her face and replaced with a smile. “I like it, actually.”

“Good,” Nicole said. “I’m glad.” She took a deep sip of what looked like a vodka. “It’s nice to be able to just...relax. Be yourself.”

“I can imagine,” Waverly said. She turned her head and saw two women sitting a table over, fused at the lips. She felt the heat rise up beneath her collar and she quickly looked away. She took a long sip of her martini, letting the alcohol warm her and make her head light. She had never seen two women kissing in person and admittedly she wanted to look again. Instead she focused on Nicole and the way the candle light flickered over her features.

The women kissing next to them were suddenly out of her mind and all she could think about was how gorgeous Nicole was. How the bow of her lips seemed so soft and inviting. She took another long sip of her drink.

“Nicole,” Waverly said, leaning even closer to Nicole from across the table. “I realize I don’t know anything about you. Where did you move here from?”

Nicole shrugged. “Next state over,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “My...husband moved here to be closer to work.”

Waverly had forgotten about Nicole’s husband. The short man that always seemed impeccably dressed. There was an unfamiliar twinge of something in her chest at the mention of him but she shook it off.

“What does he do?”

“Salesman for Kodak,” Nicole sighed. “It’s all incredibly boring. But he makes good money. Lets me do...whatever I want.”

“Huh,” Waverly said, mostly to herself. 

Waverly had been so engrossed in Nicole that she didn’t notice a band had taken the stage until the drum started. She looked over and it took a moment to register that all the band members were women, all dressed in suits except for the singer who was in a red dress that contrasted beautifully with her darker skin. Waverly watched her for a moment and she couldn’t help but think she looked...familiar.

_”You ain't nothing but a hound dog. Been snoopin' 'round the door-”_

“Wow,” Waverly breathed as women got up to dance together. She’d never seen anything like it.

“Haught, you dog.”

Waverly looked away from the band just in time to see a blonde woman pull up a chair and plop herself at their table, shit eating grin on her face as she looked between Nicole and Waverly. She was dressed in a sleek black dress, cigarette hanging carelessly from her fingers as she smiled at Nicole.

“Eliza,” Nicole said stiffly, clearly giving the other woman a look. “I have a guest, I’d prefer you did this at another time.”

Eliza shrugged. “Now’s as good a time as any,” she said smugly, leaning back against her chair. “I mean I knew you were a Lothario, but bringing your new girl to your old girl’s show is another level.”

Waverly felt herself blush under the several implications in that one sentence. First that she was Nicole’s ‘girl’, though she had to admit she didn’t dislike it. But secondly and perhaps most importantly, the singer was Nicole’s...old girl?

“Not now, Eliza,” Nicole said. “Come on, you know that’s not true.”

Eliza turned to look at Waverly, smile even wider. She leaned closer to Waverly, eyes darting over her features. “Hey, you know who you remind me of? Judy Garland.”

She winked and Waverly’s face flushed.

“Okay, thank you, you’ve done enough,” Nicole said, as she pulled Eliza back by her collar. “Can you leave us now?”

“Only if I can borrow that new book I know you picked up,” Eliza said, leaning against her chair again and looking at Nicole. “I need some new reading.”

“Yeah, sure, come by tomorrow,” Nicole said.

“You’re a peach,” Eliza said as she stood up. “A regular sapphic librarian.”

Nicole blushed again and gestured for Eliza to go, but not without an affectionate smile on her face. “Get outta here.”

Eliza winked at Waverly one last time before turning back towards the bar.

“So,” Nicole mumbled. “That was...a lot.” 

“You know the singer?” Waverly asked, looking back over at the band. Her heart sank. The woman was gorgeous. Tall with curves...probably well traveled and experienced...a _woman_. Waverly felt like just a girl compared to her.

“Only a little,” Nicole said. “Her name is Shae. She...we used to talk. You know.”

“You don’t anymore?” Waverly asked, looking back at Nicole.

Nicole shook her head. “No.”

“Ah,” Waverly said, finishing off her drink. The alcohol was making her bolder and she wanted to reach out and feel Nicole’s hand in her own. To see if it was as soft as she imagined. She wanted to ask if maybe...maybe they were on the path to ‘talking’. That maybe she could see how it felt to have Nicole’s breath become one with her own.

Waverly tilted her head and looked at Nicole, the other question she had running to the front of her mind. “Librarian, huh?”

Nicole chuckled and shook her head. “Just...some of the girls that come here-...I have a lot of books. I let them borrow them.”

“What kind of books?” Waverly asked. What if she had unwittingly walked into a Commie bar?

“Books for...women,” Nicole said.

“Recipes and household cleaning tips?” 

Nicole chuckled again and shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Can I read one?” Waverly asked.

Nicole blinked at her in shock for a moment. “Um...I mean, I don’t know if it’d be your thing.”

“It might be,” Waverly said softly, eyes trained on Nicole to try and get her point across. “I think that...it might be. My kind of thing that is.”

She watched as a slow smile spread over Nicole’s face. She swore she could fall in those dimples.

“Alright then,” Nicole said, as she finished off her drink. “You can borrow a book.”

“Thank you,” Waverly said, smiling at her small victory. 

Nicole leaned forward, her hands ending up on either side of Waverly’s and her fingers brushing lightly over Waverly’s wrists. Waverly felt heat bloom from the spot on her skin that Nicole touched. It ran up her arm and into her chest, making it expand, and her need to draw Nicole closer grew stronger.

Waverly looked around her and it felt like even more people were looking at her. Suddenly the bar felt too crowded and Waverly just wanted to get out. To be alone with Nicole. 

“Mind if we...go for a walk...or something?” Waverly asked softly, an embarrassed crinkle in her nose. “I just...feel a little...watched at the moment.”

“Oh, of course,” Nicole said, immediately standing and moving to get Waverly’s chair for her. “I’m sorry. They just...we don’t get a lot of new blood in here.”

Waverly stood up and shrugged, reveling in Nicole’s closeness for a moment. “It’s fine.”

Nicole smirked, her voice getting a little lower. “It’s not like I can blame them, though. Hard to look away when you’re in the presence of an angel.”

Waverly felt her entire face go red, rendered speechless by the compliment. She didn’t even realize that Nicole had ushered them back out onto the street. Waverly took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill her lungs, the alcohol pleasantly buzzing in her head. She drifted closer to Nicole as they walked. Her heels clicked on the cement of the sidewalk and she could feel the heat from Nicole’s body on her side. Their arms brushed as they walked and Waverly tried to find something to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

Luckily Nicole spoke up first. “Any particular place you want to walk to?”

Waverly hummed. “I just like the walk. It’s been forever since I just...walked anywhere.”

“What have you been doing instead?” 

“Cooking. Baking. Cleaning,” Waverly looked down at her feet as they walked. “So, not much, to be honest. I basically married Champ right after high school so...there hasn’t been a lot. How long have you and your husband been married?”

Nicole snorted but quickly recovered. “Um...Not long. A year or so now. I forget. But too late as far as my parents were concerned.”

“What’d you do before?” Waverly asked, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of being an unmarried adult.

“I worked in the factories during the war,” Nicole said, standing a little taller. “Helped build the planes for our boys. Until...they came back. They laid us all off when the soldiers started coming back from overseas. They said we did our duty and now had to do the American thing and let the men have their jobs back.”

Waverly could hear the bitterness in Nicole’s tone and gently bumped into her, keeping their bodies close. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Nicole said, waving it off. “It’s in the past.”

They walked to the main part of the city where there was slightly more life. There were a couple of cafes open with people chatting inside. But what caught her attention was the trolley pulling into the station. She used to love to take it when she was a kid. She and Wynonna would jump on the back and just ride it for as long as they could before the conductor kicked them off.

Nicole must have caught Waverly’s gaze because she nodded towards the station. “Wanna take the trolley home?”

“Can we?” Waverly asked.

“Come on,” Nicole said, reaching for Waverly’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Waverly felt...safe. Just from simple touch. She marveled at how soft and familiar Nicole’s hands felt. How they seemed to fit perfectly together. Nicole paid the trolley toll and they both got on the empty car right before it started on its route. 

Nicole dropped Waverly’s hand and instead of mourning the loss, Waverly reached for a pole in the middle of the car. She spun to face Nicole with a big smile. “I love standing in the middle.”

“You don’t want to sit?” Nicole asked, looking at all the empty seats.

Waverly shook her head. “It’s more fun to stand.”

Nicole laughed and held onto one of the hanging handles. “Fine. But don’t blame me when you fall.”

Waverly scoffed and shot Nicole a look. She turned so that her back was against the pole and she was facing Nicole. “I’m not going to fal-”

As if the universe were conspiring against her, the trolley hit a bump and Waverly went flying forward. She squeaked in surprise, grabbing onto the first thing she could to keep herself upright which so happened to be the open label of Nicole’s jacket. Nicole looped her arm around her waist to catch her and Waverly’s heart leapt into her throat for a variety of reasons. Once the sudden rush of a adrenaline and fear tapered, she realized she was basically face first in Nicole’s chest. She blushed and looked up, noticing how close Nicole’s face was to hers. 

Nicole smirked. “You’re not gonna fall, huh?” she said lowly, her breath playing over Waverly’s lips.

“Shut up,” Waverly muttered, smirking back at her.

“Good thing I was here to catch you I guess,” Nicole said.

Her eyes darted down to Waverly’s lips and she realized how comfortable this all felt, to be in Nicole’s arms like this.

“Don’t get cocky,” Waverly said as she straightened herself up, her hands reluctantly falling from Nicole’s jacket. Nicole’s arm fell away slowly, hand brushing over Waverly’s hip and making her shiver. Nicole’s face immediately turned to concern.

“Are you cold?” she asked, already shrugging off her jacket. 

“Oh, no I’m-” 

Before Waverly could even finish, Nicole was draping her jacket over Waverly’s shoulders. Nicole’s scent washed over her, sweet like vanilla and comforting.

“Thank you,” Waverly smiled, a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

“No problem,” Nicole said. They went over another bump and Nicole put her other hand on the bar, her arm keeping Waverly upright and keeping their bodies close. Waverly had her hands behind her back, gripping the bar for stability as she looked up at Nicole. There was less than a foot between their bodies and Waverly forgot they were in public for just a moment. Her heart fluttered stupidly at Nicole’s smile and one thing became clearer than it ever had been before:

Waverly was falling for her.

No.

Waverly had already fallen for her. 

For her pretty eyes and pretty lips and the way her eyelashes fanned out and how her hands were so gentle but so _sure_ and yeah...Waverly wanted to kiss her.

“Come to the book club this week,” Waverly blurted.

Nicole chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t know, Waves. I don’t really fit in at those kinda things.”

“Please?” Waverly said, eyes wide. She gently kicked the side of Nicole’s shoe with her foot, pushing her body a little closer to Nicole’s. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

Nicole audibly groaned and looked away for a moment. “Fine.”

Waverly smiled but tried to temper her excitement. “You’re going to love all the girls.”

“As long as you’re there, I’m not worried,” Nicole said. 

Waverly wondered if her words tasted as good as they sounded.

“This is our stop,” Nicole said as the trolley came to a halt. She took Waverly’s hand again and Waverly led them off the trolley. Their hands disconnected as soon as they were on the sidewalk and began the one block walk to their houses.

“Thank you for taking me to the bar, Nicole,” Waverly said softly. “I promise next time to have more than one drink.” Nicole’s eyebrows shot into her hairline and Waverly started to ramble from nerves. “I mean...if you want a next time. I just-...I don’t know if you need...company-”

“Well _next time_ I’ll get up the nerve to ask you to dance too,” Nicole said. “Preferably when my ex isn’t singing.”

Waverly giggled, her body drifting closer to Nicole’s. “You...want to dance with me?”

“I’d be a dunce if I didn’t,” Nicole whispered like it was a secret. Waverly looked into her brown eyes practically dancing with mischief.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Waverly said. In a moment of boldness, she reached over and took Nicole’s hand in her own. Nicole stiffened for a moment and Waverly was about to apologize before she felt Nicole squeeze her hand. 

They walked the rest of the block in silence until Nicole got to Waverly’s driveway. The immaculately scrubbed spot on the driveway practically glowed under the dim streetlight and she looked away.

“I had a good time,” Waverly said, as she stopped in front of her door.

“Good,” Nicole said, looking down between them before looking back up at Waverly. She licked her lips and Waverly’s eyes followed the path of her tongue as it passed over her lips. Waverly felt her mouth dry at the sight and tried to focus on her eyes. “Want to come by tomorrow? For the book?”

“Hm? Yes. Um...yes. I’ll come by for the book,” Waverly said. One of her hands had a mind of its own, fingertips tracing the edge of Nicole’s suspenders. She was drifting closer and closer to Nicole, her heart rate picking up.

It felt like her heart was fluttering in her chest and her stomach flipped when she felt Nicole’s nose bump hers. She saw Nicole start to close the gap and her eyes shut, lips parted and ready as her hand closed around Nicole’s suspender in anticipation. She felt Nicole’s lips press a small kiss on the corner of Waverly’s mouth, her chuckle warming Waverly’s skin.

As soon as her lips were there, they were gone. 

The only hint Waverly had that Nicole was pulling away was her suspender stretching in her hand. Waverly opened her eyes, cheeks thoroughly flushed and brain scrambled as she watched Nicole walk backwards down the driveway.

She had a shit eating grin on her face that made Waverly want to slap it off and kiss her senseless at the same time. 

“See you tomorrow, Waves,” Nicole said, hands in the pockets of her pants.

“Yeah...tomorrow,” Waverly said, still a little dazed. 

Nicole winked at her before turning and walking down the sidewalk towards her own house. Waverly ducked inside and took a deep sigh, pulling Nicole’s jacket tighter around her shoulders. She leaned back against the door, a hand on her chest, as if she were trying to feel the fluttering of her heart under her fingers.

“Wow,” Waverly whispered to herself as she slid down the door, pulling her knees up to her chest and sighing. “Wow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1101149484547858432) and [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) on Twitter for a good time. Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wynonna investigates Doc's whereabouts and Waverly learns to read one handed. Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

Wynonna wasn’t crazy. 

People had told her for years she was crazy. But she knew she wasn’t. 

Was she following her husband in the car she borrowed from Waverly when she dropped off Alice? Yes. Did that make her crazy? No. 

Just resourceful. 

Waverly seemed a little put off by the surprise visit from her niece, something about a book. But Wynonna couldn’t be bothered with that at the moment. She was following her husband to see if he was really “working late” like he had said. 

But unless “working late” involved a dentistry emergency at the department store, Wynonna was calling bullshit. 

“He better be buying me pantyhose or some shit,” Wynonna muttered to herself as she gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

He parked and Wynonna parked a few aisles down, tightening the scarf she had put around her head in a vague attempt to remain hidden. That, coupled with her sunglasses, and she was sure she could avoid detection. Wynonna got out of the car and followed a safe distance behind him as he went into the store. 

She pushed the glasses up onto her head as she pretended to browse, the soft music playing overhead already grating her nerves. John Henry had veered right so Wynonna went left, trying to appear casual as she stood in front of the lipstick counter. There was a mirror sitting on the counter and she tilted it so that she could still see John Henry.

“Welcome to Harris, how can I help you?” came a happy voice.

Wynonna grunted and looked up to see a tiny, cheery thing standing in front of her with the enthusiasm of a virgin at a drive-in. 

“What?” 

“I think an Apple Red would look good on you, give it a try,” the sales girl said, holding up a lipstick tube towards Wynonna. She shoved it in her line of sight, blocking the mirror for a moment. 

Wynonna growled softly and looked up again, giving the woman a stiff lipped smile. The other woman tilted her head and studied Wynonna’s face for a moment. “Or maybe some nice Angel Cheeks?”

Wynonna hummed and glanced back down to see John Henry stopping at the coat counter.

“Ma’am?”

“Hey, don’t ‘ma’am’ me… _ma’am_ ,” Wynonna said. “My name’s Wynonna and I’m here because I’m following my no-good husband around and your counter had a mirror. I’m not here to buy your stuff.”

The other woman blinked at her for a moment before her eyes darted over her shoulder.

“Well, my name’s Midge. That fella there with the mustache?” 

Wynonna looked back down at the mirror so that she could see John Henry. The coat girl had come to the counter and she was leaning in a little too closely for Wynonna’s liking. She had smooth brown skin that looked like she bathed in milk. If Wynonna wasn’t so mad she might ask her what her moisturizing routine was.

“Yep, that son of a bitch,” Wynonna muttered.

Midge nodded. “I’m only telling you this because I also had a no-good husband of my own that I managed to get rid of. Your husband is putting more than his coat in her closet.”

“That bastard,” Wynonna said, blood boiling.

“I’ve seen him around. Comes around every other day or so,” Midge said as she continued to look over Wynonna’s shoulder. “Kate, the coat girl, I can’t imagine she knows about you though.”

“How can you be so sure?” Wynonna asked, tearing her eyes away when she saw John Henry lean forward and kiss the other woman.

“I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t be keen on seeing a married man,” Midge said with a nod. “Plus, I can tell that he took his ring off.”

Wynonna scoffed, hands tightening into fists on the glass counter. She knew...Wynonna _knew_ it was something like this. She knew John Henry was running around on her. But seeing it right there in front of her face was something else. Wynonna was less upset that he was clearly sleeping with someone else, and more upset that he thought she would be dumb enough not to notice. 

“Wynonna,” Midge said, head ducking to get her attention. “You okay, hun?”

Wynonna smiled. “I’m more than fine, actually,” she said. “Do you have the time?”

Midge looked at her watch. “Half past four.”

“Perfect,” Wynonna said sliding her sunglasses back over her eyes. “It’s been a pleasure, Midge.”

Wynonna nodded once more before she walked out of the department store, head high and smile on her face. Half past four. Just enough time to get home and get some revenge of her own.

Wynonna drove quickly back to her house, pulling into the driveway just as the milkman was walking up to her door. She threw the car in park so hard that she heard the gears grind angrily. She got out of the car and walked quickly up to the door, heels hitting the pavement rhythmically.

The milkman was bending down to put the glass bottles of milk on her doorstep as she walked up. He stood up and turned around, tipping his cap at her.

“Mrs. Holliday,” he greeted.

Wynonna drank him in, particularly his muscles practically bulging from his crisp white uniform. She didn’t break her stride as she grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed him back against her front door. She twisted the knob and the door fell open so that she could push him into the living room. 

Without another second thought, Wynonna pulled him towards her and their lips crashed together. _God_ it was nice not to have a scratchy mustache tickling her nose for once. She pulled back slightly with a smirk when she saw the dazed look on his face.

“What’s your name first name, Mr. Dolls?”

“Xavier,” he said, voice impossibly deeper.

“Well, Xavier,” Wynonna said, hands smoothing up his firm shoulders. “You’re getting a really big tip today.”

***

“Auntie Waves, I want cookies,” Alice said from the couch. 

Waverly looked down at the spam sandwich she had been making for her niece, two slices of spam on white bread with mayonnaise. It had always been a hit with her before. 

“We’re gonna eat sandwiches first,” Waverly said cheerfully. 

“I can’t eat anymore sandwiches,” Alice said seriously. “I had one earlier.”

“That doesn’t sound like a real reason, Alice,” Waverly said, as she carried the sandwich over to Alice on a small plate. The little girl pouted, bottom lip quivering with the threat of tears and Waverly shook her head. “Don’t start with me, Alice Holliday.”

There was a brisk knock at the door and Waverly started towards it. Maybe it was Wynonna coming to pick up Alice after whatever vague task she had muttered about before dropping her off.

She opened the door and a man in a crisp looking suit and hat stood there with a well rehearsed smile. He took the hat off and held it to his chest.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m from State Farm. Can I assume I’m speaking to Mrs. Hardy?” he said.

Waverly blinked at him. “Um...yes. How can I help you?”

“May I come in?” he asked, holding up his briefcase. “I have some matters to discuss with you.”

“Oh, of course,” she said, stepping aside and letting him in. 

“Auntie Waves, who is this?” Alice practically shouted.

“He’s visiting from the insurance company,” Waverly said, walking over and patting her on the head. “Can I get you some coffee? Water? Mr…”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Smith,” he said as he sat in a chair. “And I’m fine, thank you.”

Waverly sat across from him on the couch. “What can I help you with then?”

“Well,” he started as he set his briefcase on the coffee table. He opened it up and pulled out some papers. “First off, I would like to say we at State Farm are sorry for your loss.”

He handed her a card that had lace around the edges and flowy type over the front with pastel flowers around it. 

‘Sorry for your loss’

Waverly opened it.

‘Thinking of you and your family in this trying time.’

It was signed ‘State Farm’ as if the entire company was reaching out in her time of need. She wondered how many of these identical cards they had in the secretary's drawer back at the office.

“Um...thank you,” Waverly said, carefully closing the card and placing it back on the table.

Mr. Smith gave her a well rehearsed, sympathetic smile and went back to the contents of his briefcase. “Now, we just have the matter of your husband’s life insurance policy to discuss.”

“Oh,” Waverly said simply. Alice had taken the bread off of her sandwich and was licking the mayonaise. Waverly took the piece of bread from her and put it back on top of the sandwich to make it whole again. “I forgot he had one of those.”

The insurance man just blinked at her for a moment and hummed. “Well, the investigation into the case has closed-”

“Investigation?”

“Yes, to rule out foul play,” he said as he placed some papers and a pen in front of Waverly. “So now we can pay out his policy. You just need to sign these papers and we’ll be good to go.”

“Foul-” Waverly frowned, her mind going a million miles a minute, as she reached for the pen. “Just sign here?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. Smith said as Alice started to fuss again. She had thrown herself face first onto the couch, a piece of white bread crushed in her tiny hand. Waverly quickly signed and pulled down Alice’s skirt that had flipped over.

Mr. Smith took the papers and looked them over, nodding and muttering to himself as he checked things. When he got to the last page, he signed with a flourish. “Perfect!”

Waverly jumped at the sudden exclamation and watched as he put the papers back in his briefcase and pulled out a plain envelope. He stood up so she followed suit. He handed it to Waverly and shook her hand after she took it.

“Thank you for choosing State Farm, Mrs. Hardy,” he said before turning around and heading out the door. Waverly watched him go, blinking in surprise for a moment.

“Well that was odd,” she said as she opened the envelope to look at the check. It certainly couldn’t be that much-

Waverly felt like she swallowed her own tongue. 

The check was made out for fifty-thousand dollars.

Fifty- _thousand_.

She quickly sat back down.

“Auntie Waverly, I’m hungry,” Alice said, piece of bread still clutched in her hand as she crawled on Waverly like a jungle gym.

“You have food right there, baby,” Waverly said, completely distracted.

“I don’t want this food,” Alice pouted. “The bread is smushed.” 

“Okay, Alice,” Waverly said, still staring at all the zeros on the check to make sure she counted them right. Suddenly Champ’s death felt like it had been the best idea in the world.

***

Needless to say, Waverly was in a great mood the rest of the day. And so was Wynonna when she came to pick up Alice. If not a little rumpled. But Waverly was sure the first time she had knocked Wynonna speechless was when she told her about the insurance settlement. And now that Wynonna and Alice were gone, she could finally go see Nicole.

Only to get the book Nicole was going to let her borrow.

Obviously. Even if she did think about how Nicole’s lips were so close to hers and she could still smell her perfume. Probably because she still had her coat hanging up by the door. She found herself wandering close to it a few times during the day just for the barest hints of it.

Was it dumb to miss Nicole? Perhaps. But she couldn’t help but look out her window in hopes for small glimpses of her. While she was washing Alice’s plate earlier she had imagined Nicole’s fingers lightly brushing against her wrists at the bar and couldn’t fight the smile off of her face.

So after she checked her dress and hair, Waverly headed over to Nicole’s. It felt especially far away for some reason. Her stomach turned the closer she got, anticipation growing tight in her spine and making her fingers twitch against the plate of cookies she had decided to bring with her.

When she got to Nicole’s door, she took one more deep breath before knocking. The door opened a moment later and Nicole leaned against the doorframe as she unabashedly took Waverly in.

“Well hello, Waves,” she said with a smirk. “I wasn’t sure if I’d be seeing you today.”

Waverly felt her entire body flush. “My niece was dropped off with me today. I had some impromptu baby-sitting to do.”

“Ah,” Nicole said, before tilting her head. “Wanna come in?”

“Sure,” Waverly said, trying to appear nonchalant as she shrugged and stepped into the house. “I brought you cookies.”

Nicole’s eyes lit up and she took the plate from Waverly’s hands, their fingers brushing and bumping into each other in a way that couldn’t be accidental.

“I love your cookies,” Nicole confessed, taking a bite out of one. “I’ve been dreaming about them since the first batch you brought me.”

Waverly blushed and shook her head. “It’s just a recipe I got from Good Housekeeping that I modified.”

“They’re amazing,” Nicole said softly. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Waverly said, watching as Nicole set the plate down on the coffee table and turned towards her. 

“Wanna see my book collection?” Nicole asked.

Waverly could only nod and Nicole took her hand, pulling her into another room. It looked like an office with a desk against the wall facing a window, an olive green typewriter sitting on the desk. Waverly gravitated towards it, her fingers reaching out to feel the smooth keys.

“That’s my baby,” Nicole bragged a little. “Royal Quiet de Luxe.”

“It’s beautiful,” Waverly said.

“Yeah.”

Waverly looked up at Nicole and caught her eye. Nicole blushed and looked away, clearing her throat as she pointed at a bookcase.

“These are my books,” she said a little uselessly. “They um...you can browse if you want.”

Waverly walked over to the shelf and looked at the colorful spines, the edges worn and lovingly broken in. She read some of the titles, _‘Warped Desire’, ‘Return to Lesbos’, ‘A Bit of Fluff’, ‘Counterfeit Lesbian’._

She blushed and pulled the last one off the shelf, looking at a cover of a woman sitting in a tub, her nipples artfully covered by some soap suds over her breasts. There was another woman in lingerie doing up her bra behind her, watching the woman in the tub lustfully.

“Oh,” Waverly said, trying to hide her surprise. She opened it and scanned a paragraph.

_‘Marilyn opened up the jacket of Peggy’s pajamas and palmed her small breast. Peggy vibrated in pleasure like a violin strung too tight and Marilyn’s hands began to wander down her stomach._

_Peggy didn’t know what was happening to her. Marilyn wasn’t a man and yet her body was reacting like she was._

_Marilyn kissed Peggy then, just as her hand slid between her thick thighs and -‘_

“Oh,” Waverly choked, slowly closing the book. Her ears burned and she could feel Nicole slide up close behind her which certainly wasn’t helping. She could feel the heat of Nicole’s body against her back and resisted leaning back against her. 

“This one can be a bit intense,” Nicole said lowly, breath playing against the shell of Waverly’s ear. She plucked the book from Waverly’s hands and slid it back into place. “We should really ease you in-“

“I don’t need to be eased in,” Waverly said defiantly, despite the shiver that ran through her. 

Nicole hummed. She leaned forward and reached towards a top shelf, her hand resting lightly on Waverly’s hip. Waverly felt her throat close at the closeness, especially when a breeze of Nicole’s perfume skirted past her nose. She watched carefully as Nicole’s long, elegant fingers traced down the row of book spines before landing on a specific one. She put a single finger on the top of the book and slid it from it’s home. She held it in front of Waverly, her arm basically around her shoulders in a way that Waverly could imagine what it would be like if Nicole pulled her against her chest.

 _”The Supply Room,_ ” Waverly read, taking the book from Nicole and turning around so they were facing each other. “I remember this one. From the first time I came over.”

Nicole nodded. “It reminds me of you now.”

Waverly smiled and held the book to her chest as she looked up at Nicole. They were just so close and still Waverly craved to be closer. She wondered how she could entice Nicole to kiss her cheek again. Or perhaps, let her lips wander a little closer to Waverly’s and they could-

“Thank you,” Waverly said softly.

“My pleasure,” Nicole said, her hand still on Waverly’s hip. 

Waverly took a bold step forward, their bodies almost touching. She clutched the book tightly like a lifeline that was keeping her ashore, keeping her from being completely washed up into Nicole. But now with their closeness, Waverly could take in her features. In the curve of her lips and how her long eyelashes brushed against her cheek with each bash of her eyes...the beauty mark right below her eye and the scar on her cheek that Waverly wanted to run her fingers over.

Nicole gently brushed some hair behind Waverly’s ear and she sighed, grip tightening on the book.

“I look forward to hearing your thoughts,” Nicole whispered before stepping away. Waverly’s body swayed towards her still she was being pulled into her orbit unwillingly. For all she knew, maybe she was.

“Thank you,” Waverly said, smiling brightly at her. “Again.”

Nicole just smiled. “Any time, Waves.”

The phone rang and Waverly jumped, shocked by the sudden sound. Nicole smiled apologetically.

“I have to get that.”

Waverly just nodded and her eyes followed Nicole out of the room. She took a deep breath and ran a shaky hand through her hair. Nicole Haught really was going to be the death of her.

***

Waverly had been nervous putting the life insurance check in the bank. She half expected for someone to come out and tell her it was all fraud. That she _had_ killed Champ on purpose and was going to jail. Her palms sweated the entire time the bank teller was helping her.

And...so what if she wasn’t exactly broken up about Champ’s death? He was...fine. Maybe subconsciously she had killed him, but she didn’t _purposefully_ run him over. It was his own fault to be honest.

Waverly was walking back to her car when she passed a shop window that caught her eye. She stopped in front of it and looked at the display of Smith-Corona typewriters being set up in the window. 

She had always considered writing...she enjoyed it in high school, before Champ told her that no one wanted a girl who thought too much. She even had her own typewriter that had been her Mama’s, that Champ made her get rid of because “typewriters are for secretaries and my wife ain’t no secretary”.

It only took her a moment to consider the teal blue typewriter before ducking into the store.

***

When Chrissy arrived at the book club that week, Waverly started to regret inviting Nicole over. For several reasons.

For one, Waverly wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep her adoration at bay. She was sure it would be plain on her face that she wanted to run her hands through long red hair and pull Nicole close. Wynonna was the only one that Waverly had confessed her feelings to. There was no telling how the other girls might react if they realized that Waverly admired her in a far too friendly way.

Secondly, there was a part of Waverly - the selfish part - that wanted to keep Nicole all to herself. For it to just be...her and Nicole. Maybe not...together. Not yet anyways. But to allow them into that little part of her life felt...well it made Waverly want to hide Nicole away.

“Hello, Chrissy,” she said before looking at the ever-present dog in her arms. “Pierre.”

“Pierre isn’t feeling well today,” Chrissy whispered like he could hear and would take offense to her talking about his health with another person. 

Waverly let them in, stepping to the side so that they could enter. Her eyes were pulled to a head of red hair making her way down the sidewalk and Waverly panicked. She closed the door behind her, standing on the outside with her hand folded behind her back and on the doorknob. 

Nicole smiled her smile and Waverly felt herself swoon a little bit. She smiled back, waving with her free hand as Nicole approached. She stopped within a foot of Waverly and held up a bottle of whiskey.

“I’m not much of a cook,” she explained. “So I brought this instead.”

“Wynonna’s gonna love you,” Waverly said. She tilted her head and scrunched up her nose a little. “You don’t...have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Do what?” Nicole asked.

“You know...come to this,” Waverly said, waving her hand dismissively in the air.

Nicole looked a little hurt. “Do you...not want me to?”

“No! I mean...yes, I want you here,” Waverly quickly corrected. She reached for Nicole’s hand, unconsciously playing with her wedding ring as she continued softly. “I just...I don’t know. I like keeping you to myself.” Waverly cursed her honesty in the moment and blushed. “I mean...not like you’re...not like we’re-...you know. Just…”

“You’re adorable,” Nicole interrupted, stepping even closer to Waverly so that the tips of her wing tipped shoes touched Waverly’s heels. She smiled at her and leaned into her orbit to whisper. “You can have me all to yourself later. How does that sound?”

Waverly shivered. “Sounds...nice.”

“Good,” Nicole said though her dimpled smile. “Now let’s go inside.”

Nicole squeezed Waverly’s hand and pulled away. Probably for the best or else Waverly might have spent the whole day out there with her. She turned and opened the door as the girls were finishing getting settled with their food. Rosita was already up getting seconds and everyone turned to Nicole as they walked in.

“This is Nicole,” Waverly said airily. “She’s my new neighbor.”

Wynonna smirked and Waverly shot her a warning look. But Chrissy and Rosita smiled politely, waving. Waverly pointed to everyone in turn. “This is Chrissy, and Rosita, and my sister Wynonna.”

Everyone said hello and Nicole’s fingers fidgeted nervously on the neck of the bottle. “I brought whiskey.”

“I knew I’d like you, Red,” Wynonna said making grabby hands at the bottle. Waverly rolled her eyes, and Nicole chuckled as she handed the bottle over.

“I’ll get some glasses,” Waverly said, quickly walking into the kitchen. But not before seeing Chrissy pat the seat next to her for Nicole to sit down.

Rosita was in the kitchen loading up her plate with stuffed cabbage. She smiled at Waverly and nodded her chin towards Nicole in the living room.

“I like her.”

“You haven’t even talked to her yet.”

“Do you like her?” Rosita asked, hip against the counter and plate in front of her.

Waverly fidgeted and took the time to reach into the cabinet for glasses to think. As she brought down five, she couldn’t help the shy smile that graced her features. “Yeah.”

“Then I like her,” Rosita said with a wink before going back out to the living room. 

Waverly smiled as she followed Rosita, setting glasses down in front of everyone. Wynonna already had the bottle open and was sniffing it like wine. 

“This is the good stuff,” Wynonna said as she poured herself a generous glass.

“So Nicole,” Chrissy started, seemingly ignoring how Pierre was licking her plate clean. Again. “Tell me about your husband. Mine is very sweet. He’s a...business man. He tends to be away a lot.”

“Mine is a salesman, he’s gone too,” Nicole said simply.

“Yeah, well, John Henry is cheating on me. So. I win,” Wynonna said as she took a long sip of her whiskey. “With a goddamn coat girl at Harris. Can you believe it?”

Waverly sat in shocked silence and seemed like everyone else was following suit. Everyone was still, unable to react, except for Rosita who was still shoveling food into her mouth. It really was a wonder she managed to keep her figure.

“Oh, Nonna,” Waverly said. “I’m sorry.”

Wynonna waved it off and shook her head as she poured herself a second glass. “It’s fine. I fucked the milkman.”

Waverly heard a fork clatter to a plate and she wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t hers. 

_“What?”_ Waverly squeaked. “Is that why you were so happy the other day?”

Wynonna was grinning widely and she nodded slowly. Nicole had her hand in front of her mouth, clearly trying to hold in laughter.

 _”Wynonna. Holliday,”_ Chrissy admonished. “John Henry is your _husband _.__

__“Then he should act like it instead of putting his dick in anything that moves.”_ _

__Nicole snorted, head down and hand on her forehead to try and hide her laughter but the shaking of her shoulders was a dead giveaway._ _

__Chrissy’s eyes were practically bugging out of her head as her mouth opened and closed like a fish. Her face was a shade of red Waverly hadn’t seen before._ _

__“Are you going to keep...having relations with him?” Rosita asked delicately despite the piece of limp cabbage hanging from her mouth._ _

__Wynonna shrugged. “Depends if he keeps schtupping the coat girl. I have to say though, Waves over here had the right idea. Her life is looking better and better.”_ _

__Waverly flushed, eyes wide with panic. “I um-“_ _

__Chrissy’s voice went up three octaves. “You can’t say that about someone’s _dead_ husband!”_ _

__Rosita was shaking her head and pointing at Waverly. “Wynonna’s not wrong though,” she said. “Do you girls even know what I put up with every day with The General?”_ _

__Everyone shook their heads, and Nicole just looked fascinated._ _

__“Well, let me tell you,” Rosita started._ _

__Wynonna pulled out her Lucky Strikes and passed them around the room._ _

__“First of all, he only eats soup. _Soup!_ And then, every week I have to do those stupid camp outs with him. The other day he made me speak Spanish to him and pretend he was my prisoner!”_ _

__Wynonna shook her head as she took a long drag of her cigarette. “That man has seen a _lot_.”_ _

__Rosita’s hands flailed in the air just as Waverly passed her the box of cigarettes and they went flying across the room._ _

__“Not to mention the dogs! The dogs eat better than me. They get the best cuts of steak from the butcher,” Rosita said. She had her fork in her hand, bits of ground beef clinging to the end as she gestured wildly. “I thought he was going to be dead years ago or I would have never married him. If he didn’t let me do all my experiments in the basement and the ring on my finger didn’t keep the hardware store from questioning my purchases...I don’t know what I’d do.”_ _

__“You are all being-...the _dis_ respect,” Chrissy said. Pierre was staring at Waverly, beady eyes round and vacant with the tip of his tongue poking from his muzzle._ _

__Wynonna scoffed loudly, and Waverly wondered how many drinks she’d had. “Are you telling me that Perry doesn’t do _anything_ weird or annoying?”_ _

__“I love my husband very much,” Chrissy said._ _

__“That doesn’t mean he’s not annoying,” Wynonna mocked. “Come on. Do his feet stink? Does he always comment on other dames?”_ _

__Chrissy quieted for a moment and shrugged, suddenly finding the top corner of the room very interesting. “I mean...he does go hunting a lot and I wish he wouldn’t. He always is making me rabbit fur accessories.”_ _

__She trailed off and the rest of the room was silent._ _

__“Wow,” Nicole said, as she took a sip of her drink._ _

__Wynonna was leaning back in her chair, glass and cigarette hanging loosely in her hand as she looked at Nicole. “How about you, Red? What’s your husband’s deal.”_ _

__Nicole shrugged and lit her cigarette. Waverly watched her lips close a little too firmly. “I think my husband is part of a cult.”_ _

__The room was silent again, everyone staring at Nicole. She took a long drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling and reaching the ceiling. Waverly’s eyes caught hers and the redhead winked at her. Waverly couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from her chest. She tried to hold in the chuckle but it came out as a snort._ _

__Rosita chuckled next and soon Wynonna joined in before they were all laughing loudly. Waverly’s stomach hurt from the laughter, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes._ _

__“Y-you know what we should do?” Wynonna said through her laughter. “We s-should just-” wheeze “-get rid of them all. Like W-Waves and Champ.”_ _

__They all laughed harder except for Chrissy who, once again, looked scandalized. But Waverly couldn’t care less._ _

__***_ _

__Wynonna wiped Rosita’s giant plate off with the drying towel and placed it in the rack before taking a glass from Waverly to dry. She didn’t like doing chores and usually never offered to help Waverly, but she felt a little bad about spilling her whiskey on the carpet. Just a little._ _

__She had been pleased to discover that this chick that Waverly decided to lezz out for was normal. She laughed at Wynonna’s joke so she must have good taste._ _

__Wynonna kept thinking about how happy Waverly had seemed lately. She was light and bouncy in a way that Wynonna hadn’t seen since high school. Since before Chump. And if that was because of Nicole then good for them. But Wynonna couldn’t help but feel like at least half of that had to do with Champ being gone._ _

__She tilted her head and tried to remain casual. “So...Waves,” she started. “Would it really be...that bad if we killed ‘em?”_ _

__Waverly stopped her very precise glass scrubbing and looked over at Wynonna. “Killed...who?”_ _

__Wynonna shrugged and shook her head. “You know just...John Henry. I mean...you got away with it, it must not be that hard-”_ _

__“I didn’t kill Champ, Wynonna,” Waverly said sharply. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.”_ _

__Wynonna rolled her eyes. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t do it a _little_ bit on purpose.”_ _

__“No!” Waverly said looking far more scandalized than she should. “You’re insane.”_ _

__“Okay, fine,” Wynonna conceded. “Then maybe just...scare him a little.”_ _

__“Wynonna,” Waverly said handing her the final glass. “Do me a favor and _don’t_ kill your husband.”_ _

__“You’re no fun,” Wynonna muttered as she finished drying the glass._ _

__Once the dishes were done and they had said their proper goodbyes, Wynonna sat at the stop sign at the end of the street for at least five minutes. Left and she would be home. Right and she would be heading towards the department store._ _

__“Fuck it.”_ _

__***_ _

__Once everyone was gone and the house cleaned up, Waverly decided it was time to let herself unwind, and finally read the book she’d borrowed from Nicole. She had been dying to read it, and tonight...tonight felt like the perfect time._ _

__She poured herself a nightcap and slipped her silk nightgown on, the one that always felt so luxurious against her skin. With the book tight in her hand, she slipped between the covers of her bed with only the bedside lamp on, and propped herself against the pillows to get comfortable._ _

__Waverly briefly ran her fingers over the paper cover, remembering when she saw Nicole reading the book not too long ago._ _

__With a satisfied hum, Waverly opened the book and began to devour every word._ _

__It started off normally enough. A woman name Margaret was finally in charge of her own life, holding a job and moving out on her own. She was discovering herself. Waverly couldn’t say she didn’t relate. Just the first few days without Champ and Waverly had felt like she was discovering things about herself that she hadn’t before._ _

__The further along into the book she got, the more tension became obvious between Margaret and this other woman named Gidget. Lots of furtive glances in the factory, across the assembly line, that eventually turned to obvious stares of longing._ _

__“Oh,” Waverly said to herself whens he turned the page and saw the language get slightly more...sexual. Margaret was kissing Gidget against a washing machine and-_ _

__“Oh.”_ _

‘ _Only once before in her life, at Camp Wannahititoh, had Margaret felt this way about another girl. She was thirteen years old and there was Janet, all lean boyish muscles and and perfect blond curls, smiling at her as she demonstrated the use of the longbow during archery. At the time, Margaret chalked it up to girlish fascination with the older girl...but now she wasn’t so sure._

_Because here was Gidget laid out in front of her on a pile of laundry bags in the supply room, plump lips on full display, her shirt somewhat awry from their previous activities. Gidget’s breasts heaved and her eyes glistened in the semi-dark room. “Meg,” she begged, “please touch me. I...I’ll just die if you don’t!”_ ’ 

__Waverly’s neck and chest felt flushed. She could feel arousal pounding between her legs, her throat suddenly parched. She picked up her glass with a slightly shaking hand and swallowed thickly, thirst nowhere near parched._ _

__She kept reading, her hand unconsciously trailing fingers softly over her collarbone and down into the dip of the nightgown around her breasts. She shivered and let her hand cup her own breast over the nightgown, the silky material rubbing deliciously over her stiff nipple._ _

_’Gidget’s pale thighs trembled like an avalanche of fresh snow careening down a virgin slope, when Meg’s hand thrust possessively between them.’_

Waverly licked her lips as she turned the page. Her hand had found its way to the hem of her nightgown and she pulled at the lace edge nervously. She groaned at the heavy feeling of arousal between her legs, squeezing them together to find some relief. But as she kept reading she couldn’t help but cup herself between the thighs much like how Meg’s hand went between Gidget’s. 

Her fingers easily found wet heat and she sighed in relief as she pressed against her swollen clit. Slipping over hot flesh, coated with her own slick, she circled her clit lazily, luxuriously. 

_’Meg could only stare at Gidget, awed by her good fortune in finding her amongst the hard-luck, careworn employees of the Whirlpool Washing Machine Factory. “Yes, yes Meg!” Gidget cried with wanton abandon.’_

__The tight knot in Waverly’s belly felt like it was about to snap. She had gradually sped up until she was rubbing tight circles against the stiff flesh between her legs, hips flexing with pleasure. She couldn’t help but imagine Nicole leaning over her as she reclined back on bags of laundry. Nicole’s hand between her legs and red hair spilling down between them, sticking to her forehead from exertion as she brought Waverly to orgasm._ _

__It was then that the knot broke and stars popped in front of Waverly’s eyes. She let out a long moan that bounced off the walls of her quiet room, chest heaving as she curled into herself for a moment and rode out her orgasm._ _

__As she came down from her high, she became aware of her labored breathing and how her nightgown stuck to her from the thin layer of sweat that was covering her skin. She wiped her fingers on her thigh, shivering at the feeling of her come painting her skin._ _

__“Oh,” Waverly repeated, chuckling softly as the endorphins flooded her system. The book had been dropped unceremoniously on her chest, spine up to save her place. Waverly cleared her throat and rearranged herself in the bed so that she was properly propped up against the pillows again. She picked the book back up, careful not to use her still damp fingers as she found her place again._ _

__After all, the book was almost done and she couldn’t just...stop. Right? After all, it was an...enlightening read._ _

__***_ _

__Wynonna pulled into the department store parking lot in record time. She parked between two spots, not caring if someone actually wanted to park in one of them, and headed for the store. As soon as she walked through the door, she veered left and stopped at the coat room. She rung the bell and the same pretty girl from before came out from behind a rack._ _

__Wynonna smiled at her and held out her hand._ _

__“Hello. My name is Wynonna Holliday. You’re fucking my husband, and I have a proposition for you.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1103684651124584449) and [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) on Twitter for a good time. Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Everyone please enjoy this amazing chapter that was lovingly hand baked by [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) to perfection. John Henry and Wynonna have a little date night to talk out their problems.

Wynonna lay in bed, her emotions a volatile mixture of seething mad and pleasantly satiated. Alice Michelle was finally asleep, praise Jesus. John Henry came home muttering something about getting...something on himself at the office and needing a shower, and retired quickly to their bathroom. Wynonna had gotten dressed for bed in a pensive mood, her mind on the conversation she’d had with Kate and with what they’d planned together. In an attempt to kill time until John Henry decided to come to bed, Wynonna thumbed through a copy of Good Housekeeping she’d borrowed from Waverly, ostensibly for the thus far ignored recipes within, until her eyes landed on an article, “The Good Wife’s Guide To Helping Her Husband Succeed at Work.” Wynonna skimmed the bullet points, her eyes narrowing. 

 

“ _ A good wife’s primary interest is her husband, her home, and her children...The Complaining Woman...The Wife-in-a-Rut...The husband has married the wrong woman…A nagging wife is a millstone around the neck of any man... _ ”

 

“What a bunch of bullshit,” Wynonna muttered, tossing the magazine next to her on the bed. She rolled her eyes, focusing on the ceiling, listening to the sound of her beloved husband rooting around for something in the bathroom. 

 

Spending time with Xavier was fun; Wynonna had felt  _ empowered _ in a way she missed, and she was certain his milk deliveries the rest of the day would be...timely or whatever, so maybe that article wasn’t all wrong. But Waverly was obviously doing just fine without a man to tell her how to run her day...maybe she should just ask for a divorce, no need to get extreme?

 

“Wynonna,” John Henry yelled from the bathroom, “Where is the gosh-darned calamine lotion?” Flinching at the sound of her glass cosmetics bottles clattering noisily around in the wake of her husband’s frantic search, Wynonna rolled off the bed and strode into the bathroom. 

 

“Just stop, I’ll find it,” she told him. She looked closely at her husband. “What do you need it for?”

 

“I have contracted some sort of a rash upon my hand,” John Henry said, holding it out so Wynonna could see clusters of itchy looking boils, cracked red skin flaring between the fingers. “I can only assume that it is the result of some new chemical or other that I am using at my practice.”

 

Wynonna crinkled her nose in disgust, then glared at him accusingly. “Ew, John Henry, that better not be syphilis.” 

 

“It is not syphilis,” John Henry replied sternly, but Wynonna noticed that he at least had the decency to blush. Keeping her eyes fixed on him, Wynonna reached into the medicine cabinet and removed the pink lotion, holding onto the bottle until John Henry met her eye. “Odd how it’s only on one hand,” she commented, letting go of the bottle.

 

“Yes, well, if you could please allow me some privacy.” She didn’t miss the fact that John Henry’s hand unconsciously slipped to the waistband of his pajama pants, while he cagily continued avoiding her eye. 

 

Wynonna opened her mouth, then shook her head pushing out of the room. She slammed open the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, taking a deep gulp right from the bottle.  Her eyes were drawn to the “Good Housekeeping” splayed open on the bed. 

 

“ _ If you fix yourself _ ,” the article lectured, “ _ you fix your husband’s actions _ .” 

 

Wynonna nodded firmly.  _ This is gonna get fixed alright _ , she thought. 

 

***

 

Waverly was tired, but in that thrilled,  _ alive _ way one feels after spending the night doing something illicit. After Wynonna had shown up for Alice, looking slightly more flushed that usual Waverly’d noted with a frown, Waverly had curled up to read “The Supply Room,” staying awake for hours to finish the book, re-reading some of her...favorite parts, and exploring her fledgling desires.

 

Waverly felt like she’d had a life changing experience, one that she just had to share with Nicole. 

 

_ Ding-dong.  _

 

Waverly smiled to herself on Nicole’s doorstep as she patted her hair down, quickly running her hands down the front of her dress to smooth the skirt. She heard footsteps approaching the door and took a nervous breath in; every time she saw Nicole was a little more exciting...and terrifying. 

 

The door swung open to reveal her neighbor in a slim, fitted shirtdress, dark green with ivory buttons spanning the length. Waverly’s eyes coasted over the thick knotted belt at Nicole’s waist and the way the sleeves were rolled from her elbow, allowing just a hint of the toned arms Waverly had been thinking of way too often. A beautiful dress but somehow...wrong, Waverly thought. 

 

Nicole offered a weak smile, an almost relieved look on her face. “Oh hello Waverly,” she greeted, “I wasn’t expecting you. Would you like to come in?” 

 

Waverly clasped her palms together, feeling awkward. Her suddenly sweaty fingers slid against each other, and faced with the object of her affection, reminded her of her hands slick between her own thighs. Blushing, Waverly quickly pulled her hands aside and swung them against her sides. She bounced on her toes and smiled brilliantly. 

 

“Nicole! I hope it’s not a bad time, I just had to come over and talk to you about the book. Oh my gosh, it was so…”

 

Nicole reached out a gentle hand, wrapping it around Waverly’s upper arm as she looked over her shoulder into the house, then loudly spoke, “I’d love to talk about the book club, Waves, come on in. I was just making Fish a drink.” 

 

Waverly’s mouth snapped shut and her face flushed red. Nicole’s husband was here, but he  _ must _ know about the books, my god they shared a house...but now Nicole was steering her through the foyer and into the living room where her husband sat, his thin frame ensconced in a large leather and walnut lounge chair. Waverly idly observed that both the chair and the husband were sharp and modern looking, all dark edges. A large photo album sat open in his lap, allowing Waverly a brief glimpse of a young man in tiny swim trunks splayed out on a beach towel. 

 

“Sam,” Nicole introduced, “this is Waverly, our new neighbor. You left on your business trip before you got to meet everyone.” 

 

“Ah, yes.” Sam snapped the book shut and rested it on a small round table next to him, then rose gracefully from his chair. Waverly was certain she had never seen such sharp pleats on a man’s pants, as he approached, a sympathetic look creasing his thin mustache. 

 

“Please call me Fish, everyone does,” he offered gently, taking Waverly’s outstretched hand in both of his. “It’s lovely to meet you. I was so sorry to hear about your husband. I only got to see him in passing, mowing the lawn as I left for my trip, but he looked like such a nice young man.” 

 

Fish’s hands were soft and dry, warm around her own as Waverly attempted to choke out a suitably solemn reply. “Yes, ummm, he’s in a better place,” she managed eventually, looking desperately at Nicole who smiled and tugged lightly at her arm. 

 

“C’mon Waves, let’s go in the kitchen and I can get you that...cookbook.” 

 

With a final wave over her shoulder at Fish, Waverly allowed herself to be led through the door that separated the kitchen from the living room. As the door swung shut behind them Nicole’s grip slid down Waverly’s arm to her hand, interlacing their fingers and leading her over to the counter, then reaching deliberately over Waverly into the cupboard to pull out a heavy bottomed glass. 

 

“Nicole…” Waverly started, hesitating. “Is everything alright?”

 

Nicole rested a hand on the counter, her shoulders tensed, as she rubbed at her forehead with the other. “I’m sorry, Waverly. Fish prefers that when we are home together, I wear a dress,” she muttered. 

 

“It’s a lovely dress,” Waverly said, a bold hand reaching to stroke the fabric along Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole closed her eyes and leaned her head towards the touch, the ends of her hair tickling Waverly’s hand. 

 

“It isn’t me,” Nicole breathed, an admission that Waverly had to agree with. It was as if the dress sapped some sort of energy from Nicole. “When we were kids, me and Fish...well never mind. I don’t mind wearing a dress,” Nicole continued, opening her eyes to look at Waverly, “but it isn’t me to be told how to be myself, do you understand?” She licked her lips, eyes flicking nervously to Waverly’s, but warming when she caught Waverly following the motion of her tongue. 

 

Nicole pushed off the counter with a smirk, her spine straightening and some of her cocky demeanor returning. She strode over and opened the door to her pantry, bringing out a bottle of whiskey and wagging it in Waverly’s direction. “Drink?” 

 

“Yes, please,” Waverly said, regaining some of her composure. She turned to lean against the counter with a shy smile. “I actually did come over to talk about the book….’The Supply Room’.” 

 

Nicole laughed, pouring the whiskey into Waverly’s glass; she leaned on her elbows over the L-shaped end of the counter and grinned at Waverly. “Oh yes, and what did you think of Margaret’s journey to self discovery?”

 

Waverly moved with deliberation, leaning over the opposite side of the counter so that her face was close to Nicole’s. She allowed herself a moment to look over full lips and big brown eyes, the slight rounding of the bridge of her nose and a tiny scar at the eyebrow. She’d need to ask about that scar some day, she thought, as her hand rose unbidden to touch it lightly with the pad of her thumb. 

 

“I found it...relatable,” Waverly replied, eyes bright with excitement, gesticulating as she spoke. “Her feeling of empowerment when she discovered that Gidget really wanted her. As if the floodgates had opened inside her releasing all that knowledge and experience….it was...very exciting.” 

 

Nicole snorted and slapped a palm over her mouth to still the giggles, but Waverly frowned at her. “I’m sorry, Waverly,” Nicole managed, “I’m not laughing at you, but you really actually  _ read _ the book. Most of the people I loan these books to aren’t reading for...that kind of pleasure, if you know what I mean.” 

 

Waverly blushed hard at that and took a deep sip of her drink, and Nicole laughed harder, a knowing look on her face as she smothered her laughter in a dish towel. 

 

“Nicole, darling...my drink!?” came Fish’s voice from the living room, and Nicole sombered immediately with a sigh. 

 

“Just a minute Waves.” She walked to the door and peered out. “Coming, honey,” she said, her voice dull and saccharine sweet. 

 

“And when you are done visiting with your friend perhaps we might consider dinner?” 

 

“I should go,” Waverly said, moving from the counter and heading for the door. 

 

“Waverly, wait,” Nicole said softly, grabbing a cookbook from the shelf and handing it to Waverly. “Don’t forget this.” As Waverly took the book, Nicole captured her hand, holding it between them. “Sam is leaving tonight for a trip,” she said in a low voice. “Can I come see you later? We can...talk about the book some more, or I can bring you another.”

 

Waverly’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “I’d like that very much, Nicole,” she said shyly, and pushed out the door into the living room. “It was lovely to meet you, Fish, I can show myself out.” 

 

***

 

Wynonna peered at the recipe book, the tip of her tongue poked out in concentration as she added the last ingredient to the bowl of ambrosia salad. John Henry had always had a sweet tooth, and tonight she was going to guarantee he stayed for dinner.

 

Cutesy phrases decorated the top of the cookbook page in red ink that mimicked embroidery thread,  _ The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach _ . Wynonna scoffed, “Umm, yeah, definitely not that part.”  She helped herself to a heaping teaspoon of the creamy concoction and shrugged. “That’s actually kind of good,” she said, dishing it out into small metal ice cream bowls and garnishing each one with a maraschino cherry. 

 

_ Good food, good mood! _ she read. 

 

“Huh, they might actually have a point there.” 

 

Wynonna surveyed her special dinner. Everything was falling into place. Alice Michelle was with Chrissy, who was probably gleefully engaged in some form of dress up or tea party. Chrissy loved children and Wynonna had thought about leaving Alice Michelle on her doorstep with a suitcase on more than one occasion. Wynonna had pleaded with John Henry to be home for dinner that night, giving him no room for excuses when she’d promised to have Waverly help her make one of his favorite meals: Swedish Meatballs on a bed of white rice with cute little parsley garnishes. 

 

A light knock at the door had Wynonna opening it in a hurry, glancing quickly up and down the street to see if anyone had noticed. 

 

“The taxi dropped me off around the corner like you said to,” Kate told her, shrugging off her coat and moving to hang it in the closet.

 

Wynonna grabbed the coat and Kate’s arm and steered her down the hall and into the bedroom, Kate protesting slightly at the abrupt handling. “You and your coat need to wait in here. He’s gonna be home any minute now! Just get comfortable.”

 

“Jeez, okay,” Kate said, and sat down on the bed.  She looked around, an uncomfortable expression on her face. “So this is John Henry’s bedroom…”

 

“Yeah and my only consolation is that you didn’t know that already, because I  _ really _ like this bed.”  Wynonna nodded towards the night stand. “There’s whiskey in there, help yourself.” She pulled the door almost shut and strode quickly back into the dining room. 

 

Wynonna bustled around the little-used dining room table; she and Alice Michelle generally ate in the kitchen with John Henry rarely there. She’d put a nice white tablecloth out and folded cloth napkins. An open bottle of wine sat in the middle, and she lit a single taper candle, creating what she hoped was a romantic ambiance. She checked the clock. Ten minutes till John Henry got home gave her a bit of time to freshen up. 

 

Ducking into the half bathroom off of the kitchen, Wynonna brushed out her dark hair until it shone. She applied a fresh layer of deep crimson lipstick, with an appraising purse of her lips. That counter girl Midge certainly knew her products, she decided, Double Date Red really worked with her coloring...and for that evening. The tiny polka dots on her black dress popped, and she had to admit she looked great. She strode out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, surveying it with a nod, then smiled and went into the kitchen where she poured a glass of whiskey and posted herself by the front door. 

 

Right on schedule, John Henry bustled in the front door, his long duster coat swirling around him and his hat low over his eyes. Wynonna couldn’t help but check him out; he always looked good in that odd cowboy aesthetic he modeled, but the feeling had soured. Now she knew John Henry was cheating on her, and nobody played Wynonna Earp Holliday for the fool. 

 

John Henry stopped short at the sight of Wynonna holding out a drink like the perfect housewife, and looking frankly very sexy in his favorite dress, her long, thick hair over a shoulder. He looked around the living room  _ as if he’s surveying his kingdom,  _ Wynonna thought sourly, then readjusted the blandly pleased smile back onto her face. 

 

“Wynonna,” John Henry intoned, “everything here looks lovely, as do you. It is not our anniversary; to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” 

 

Wynonna smiled even more brightly and leaned in to place a chaste peck on her husband’s lips, running a thumb over his mustache to wipe away lipstick when she pulled away. “A wife can’t make her husband his favorite meal?” she asked innocently. “I spent the day teaching Alice Michelle how to clean house too. Can I take your coat?” 

 

John Henry looked at her almost suspiciously, then allowed her to remove his coat. She hung the duster in the closet by the front door, and he rested his hat on the shelf.

 

“Drink?” 

 

John Henry reached for the drink and Wynonna hissed, grabbing at his hand.

 

“Oh my god! Your hand is so swollen!” Pink dabs of calamine lotion were spread all over the back of the knuckles, and his palm was red and irritated. John Henry pulled his hand quickly away. 

 

“It is much improved. Thank you for the drink.” 

 

They stared at each other for a moment, then Wynonna gritted her teeth back into a smile and began her inner monologue, relaxing herself. 

 

_ If you fix yourself, you fix your husband’s actions. _

 

_ If you fix yourself, you fix your husband’s actions. _

 

_ If you fix yourself, you fix your husband’s actions. _

 

“Why don’t you sit down, I’ve made your favorite and something extra special for dessert.” Wynonna smiled brightly at John Henry at led him to the table.

 

***

 

Waverly couldn’t stop smiling. It couldn’t just be the way that Nicole was looking at her from across the couch as they sat there, legs folded under them, animatedly discussing the book. Nicole seemed fairly impressed when Waverly talked about the plot, specifically. Waverly had the feeling that these books weren’t sought out for riveting stories as much as the illicit scenes.

 

It couldn’t be watching Nicole pop another dark golden treat into her mouth, her eyes rolling in bliss as she took a deep sip out of her tea, then chewed the dessert. It couldn’t be the way the dimmed sconces in Waverly’s living room caught Nicole’s hair just so in the light, the contrast against the light blue damask of her couch so striking, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. 

 

No, she thought to herself, it had to be the fact that the recipe for rum balls called for one half of a cup of rum, and they were halfway through the plate. 

 

“I do believe I’m a little tipsy,” Waverly giggled, helping herself to another rum ball.

 

Nicole looked relaxed and happy in the flowy black trousers she’d showed up in that evening. Waverly had waited and watched until she saw Fish loading his cases into the truck of the car, air-kissing Nicole by the front door and driving away. She hadn’t missed the way Nicole looked straight at her window when the car was gone; the clear intention in her eyes. Half an hour later, there she was. 

 

“You’re adorable,” Nicole commented quietly, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards in a smile. 

 

They stared at each other for a beat.  _ We’re doing an awful lot of staring at each other, _ Waverly thought,  _ what’s next _ ?

 

Waverly knew what she wanted to be next. She’d been thinking about it since their date, even more so since she’d read that book. Nicole had come over with a new book for her. She wanted Nicole to kiss her. She wanted to kiss Nicole. But like...really kiss her breathless, wipe that knowing smirk off her face and feel Nicole’s fingers tangled in her hair. Waverly’s palms started to sweat and she cleared her throat.   _ Can she see it in my face _ ?  _ I don’t know how to do this _ , she thought. She picked up the new book, “The Dirty Look Librarians”.

 

“Tell me about this one?”

 

***

 

“Voila!” Wynonna said with a flourish, placing the silver dessert cup in front of John Henry. “Ambrosia salad!”

 

John Henry threw back his drink and looked at the dish, poking at it with his spoon, then back up at Wynonna. 

 

“Wynonna, I must say, the Swedish Meatballs were absolutely delicious. And this dessert looks a treat. I do not know what has come over you, but I must say that I like this new Wynonna very much.” He dipped the spoon and took a healthy bite. “Mmm, this is absolutely wonderful. I do love pineapple and those tiny little oranges.”

 

Wynonna stood frozen next to John Henry; pushing down her rage, she balled her hands into fists and took a deep, calming breath. This would all be over soon and John Henry would have learned his lesson. 

 

“Are you not going to partake?” John Henry asked, his voice breaking her from her reflection. He coughed once, patting at his throat. 

 

“What? Oh, no...I’m trying to watch my figure,” Wynonna said with what she hoped was a wholesome smile. 

 

John Henry nodded knowingly. “Oh yes, the baby weight is the hardest to lose.”

 

Wynonna’s smile faltered. “Alice Michelle is almost…you know what, nevermind.” 

 

John Henry swallowed loudly, clearing his throat again. “I do believe that I have something stuck in my throat.”

 

“I’ll bring you a glass of water,” Wynonna gritted, walking into the kitchen. She filled the water, then steeled herself, circling through the laundry room to their bedroom where Kate waited.

 

The other woman seemed to have made herself comfortable with her shoes off, reclining on the bed while she flipped through a magazine. “Come out,” she whispered, “it’s time for this showdown to go down.” 

 

Kate smiled as she eagerly got up from the bed and patted back her hair in preparation as she followed Wynonna out to the kitchen. Wynonna gestured for her to wait there as she made her way back out to the dining room.

 

Wynonna placed the glass of water down in front of John Henry with a little more force than necessary. He grabbed it, drinking it down thirstily, as he loosened his tie. Wynonna noticed that his face was red and flushed, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his brow. Probably from all the whiskey she’d been plying him with throughout the meal. She wanted him drunk for this reveal, then he wouldn’t be able to run off in a hurry. No, she had him just where she wanted him. 

 

“John Henry,” Wynonna said sternly, “there’s something we need to discuss.” He looked at her, eyes red and watery, making a loud noise in his throat. 

 

“I am not sure this is the time,” he coughed, starting to stand up, but Wynonna put a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place. 

 

“Sit down.” 

 

John Henry sat, staring at her.

 

Wynonna felt suddenly gleeful, seeing what appeared to be fear in her husband’s eyes. She was finally going to get that cheating bastard and teach him a lesson. 

 

“Kate, can you join us please!” Wynonna called over her shoulder. 

 

“Wynonna, what is this?” John Henry demanded in a strangled tone. 

 

“This, John Henry, this is what is called a reckoning!” Kate stepped out into the living room, a sneer across her lovely features. 

 

“Kate?” 

 

“Well I certainly don’t have to ask if you two know each other,” Wynonna said, hands resting on her hips. “Listen to me, John Henry Holliday, you ruined my life. Everything was great before you came along with your….twinkling blue eyes and your handsome mustache.” 

 

“And that hat!” Kate added, “You were so charming, I thought I saw a future with you!”

 

“Then you got me knocked up and you think you can just go around banging whatever bimbo you want, in whatever coat room you feel like.”

 

“Hey…”

 

“Sorry Kate, this isn’t about you,” Wynonna said, “You didn’t know the lying bastard was married.” 

 

Kate shrugged. “It just seems like finding a nice fella is never in the cards.”

 

Wynonna leaned over John Henry and pointed into his face. “Admit it, you’re a cheater.”

 

“Wynonna, I do not know what you are talking about. Now if you will excuse me I really must get some more water.” John Henry gagged. “I feel that my throat is…”

 

“You just keep your ass in that chair. I’m tired of you running off on me. It’s my turn to talk and you to listen, for once.”

 

Kate leaned in to whisper in Wynonna’s ear. “I think there’s something wrong with him.” 

 

“Oh there are lots of things wrong with my darling husband,” Wynonna practically yelled, fury darkening her features. “Did he tell you about the rash on his dick?”

 

“Wynonna!” John Henry roared, but weakly. 

 

“Don’t you ‘Wynonna’ me! I’m the one washing the calamine lotion off of your pajama pants!” 

 

“Oh my god,” Kate gasped, her hands rising to her mouth. “Do you have syphilis?”

 

“It’s...not...syphilis!” John Henry said, coughing again and reaching across the table for Wynonna’s glass of whiskey. He threw it back in one motion. “Please...get me...some water...Wynonna.”  He clawed at his neck, twisting his head from side to side.

 

“So this is it, John Henry,” Wynonna said in a deadly tone, ignoring his apparent distress. “I want a divorce and I want alimony. You will tell everyone that you cheated on me, because I’m not going to be the one-”

 

The silver dessert dish made a hard clinking sound as it bounced off the table and hit the floor. Wynonna and Kate stared wide eyed as John Henry took one labored breath, then lay there, his face splattered with whipped topping and a few flakes of coconut. 

 

“John Henry,” Wynonna said slowly, venom in her tone as she shook his shoulder, “I swear to god if you even found a way to run out on this argument I’m gonna kill you.”

 

“I should never have come here!” Kate said barely audibly beside her, “You killed him! You didn’t say you were gonna kill him, you just said we would scare him!”

 

“Yeah well he’s obviously scared!” Wynonna said, leaning in to look at John Henry’s rapidly glazing eyes. “Shit, shit. What do we do?”

 

“Call an ambulance?” Kate said. “Where’s the telephone!” 

 

“No! No ambulance.” The situation dawned on Wynonna. John Henry had taken care of their problem himself by choking on a coconut flake or some shit. Of course that bastard had to be the one to kill himself before she could kill him. But if the cops came…”No, we’ll go get my sister. She’ll help us get rid of the body!”

 

“Get rid of the body?! What the hell?” Kate stood upright, looking at Wynonna with frank disbelief.  “I am not-”

 

“Listen, sister, you were here too. Do you want to cops involved? Aren’t they going to wonder what we’re all doing here together? The implication!” It didn’t escape Wynonna how much she sounded like Chrissy at that moment, and thinking of Chrissy reminded her of Alice Michelle. “And our daughter, shit, I have to get her soon. No, we have to get rid of the body. It makes more sense because he’s always gone and no one knows to where. It’s more suspicious that he’d actually eat my cooking, to be honest,” Wynonna mused. 

 

***

 

Waverly had decided. She was going to kiss Nicole, tonight, right here on her couch. The rum balls were gone and the alcohol was warming her veins, and she could see that Nicole’s eyes were slightly glassy as well. They’d moved closer as the evening went on and conversation had waned, and now they sat there in quiet, as Nicole made the occasional weak excuse about needing to go home. 

 

_ I’m going to do it _ ... _ now _ , Waverly thought, unconsciously leaning even closer, watching the way Nicole’s smile slowly grew, everything moving in slow motion. She could feel Nicole’s hand touch her hip like she was ready to draw her in when-

 

A frantic banging at the door made her jump. 

 

Nicole pulled back, frowning and looking at her watch. “It’s late, Waverly, are you expecting someone?”

 

“I’m not,” Waverly said, walking over to the door and looking through the peephole. She sighed and turned to Nicole. “It’s my sister.” She opened the door and Wynonna was in in a flash, followed by a tall woman who Waverly didn’t know. Waverly noticed that Wynonna was wearing a scarf over her head and her white framed sunglasses. 

 

“Wynonna?” Waverly questioned, “are you drunk? Why are you here...and wearing sunglasses at night?” 

 

“I’m Kate,” the other woman introduced herself, offering a hand. 

 

“Waverly,” she replied, taking Kate’s hand. “I’m sorry, where are my manners, please come in. This is my neighbor Nicole.”

 

Nicole waved from the couch, and Wynonna smirked at her sister for a moment, “Red.” 

 

Waverly sighed, “Why are you here, Wynonna?” she asked again. 

 

“Waverly, I’m going to get right to the point. I believe you now that you didn’t kill Champ.” 

 

“Wynonna!” Waverly looked shocked and pulled her sister by the elbow over to the corner of the living room. “What the hell?” she hissed, glancing around her at Nicole and Kate. 

 

“John Henry is dead and we need you to help us get rid of the body.” 

 

“Get rid of the…Wynonna, what did you do?” Waverly wrung her hands nervously. It was starting to feel a bit murdery, what with Wynonna joking just yesterday about killing off her husband.

 

Wynonna pulled Waverly back over to the living room where Kate and Nicole appeared to awkwardly be trying to not overhear their conversation. 

 

“Look,” Wynonna said, “you’re all in on this now. Kate, you were there so basically you get half the blame.”

 

“The plan was to extort him, not kill him!” Kate exclaimed.

 

“You conspired with Kate who-...I’m sorry, who are you anyway?” Waverly asked, peering at Kate. 

 

“This is the coat girl that John Henry was fucking,” Wynonna said flatly. 

 

“I didn’t know he was married,” Kate said through bared teeth. 

 

“Yeah well, you’re not completely innocent here. You were gonna go along with telling him we were going to kill him…”

 

“Wait, what now?” Waverly interrupted, Nicole’s head snapping back and forth between the three woman like a spectator at a tennis match. “Can everyone just slow down for a minute? Wynonna, sit down and tell me what happened.”

 

Wynonna sighed heavily and removed her sunglasses, rubbing strained looking eyes and pulling out a cigarette from her purse. She offered the box around and Kate took one; they both drew deeply and Wynonna exhaled the plume of smoke into the room.

 

“I saw John Henry making time with Kate at the department store. I followed him there. Then I introduced myself to Kate and asked her if she wanted to help me just...scare him a little. I’d get a divorce and she’d get a little pay off. We were just going to scare him! I swear, Waverly...I didn’t kill him.”

 

Nicole inched slowly to her feet. “I should go,” she smiled nervously, rubbing at the back of her neck. 

 

“Sit down,” the three women said simultaneously, and Nicole sat quickly back down. 

 

Waverly threw her a soft look. “Let me get us all a drink, I think we need it, and we can come up with a plan.” 

 

After Waverly poured them all a stuff drink, Wynonna continued.

 

“So he ate the dinner, then I served the dessert, then Kate came out and we were just getting into it when he started coughing and keeled over into the plate.” Wynonna threw back her drink and poured herself another. 

 

“I wanted to call an ambulance,” Kate supplied nonchalantly, examining her nails, “but it feels too late now?” 

 

“So you’re sure he’s dead?” Nicole asked. “Maybe we should go over there and just...make certain?” 

 

“Thank god Alice Michelle is staying over at Chrissy’s tonight.” Wynonna looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know what? We need to call Rosita. That bitch is practically a doctor with all the science she’s taught herself. If anything she’ll know how to dissolve a body to leave no trace.”

 

“Wynonna!” Waverly said, horrified. 

 

Nicole looked between Wynonna and Waverly, then stood, nodding her head decisively. “Okay, you call Rosita and we can drive over there and figure this out. The sooner the better.” 

 

Waverly stood with Nicole. “Can you excuse us for a second?” she asked her unwanted guests, steering Nicole into the kitchen. She stopped and rested both hands on Nicole’s biceps. 

 

“Listen, Nicole, you don’t have to get involved in this actually. I’m so sorry you were dragged in. Life with the Earp sisters is sometimes really cuckoo.” She laughed and twirled her finger around her ear. 

 

Nicole smiled and grabbed Waverly’s finger. “It’s okay, Waverly, I like the excitement, although it occurs to me that there’s a dead man at your sister’s house right now and you and I are chatting in the kitchen.”

 

Waverly’s eyes widened. “Oh my god Nicole, I’m sor-”

 

Nicole leaned in suddenly, pressing a soft kiss on Waverly’s lips, so fast it left her wondering it it had really happened. Was this whole night just a weird dream brought on by too many rum balls and grief over the loss of Champ?

 

“Let’s just go,” Nicole said, smiling back and her and leading her out of the kitchen.

 

***

 

“Welp, he’s dead,” Rosita pronounced, a tone of finality in her voice. She removed her fingers from John Henry’s neck and looked at Wynonna, who looked pale and chagrined.  Rosita leaned in and lifted John Henry’s hand, peering closely at the rash there and pulling up his sleeve for another look, then sniffing at it.

 

“I didn’t kill him,” Wynonna said, recoiling a little at Rosita’s seemingly invasive examination of her husband’s body. “You can ask Kate, I swear, he ate the dinner and we were laying into him a bit…”

  
“Just verbally!” Kate interjected.

 

“Yeah, just that. And then he was coughing and said he had something stuck in his throat and he...fell over.”

 

Kate dug around in her purse, pulling out a bottle of lotion and squirting some onto her hands. As she spread the lotion around, Rosita turned to her. 

 

“That smells nice, what is it?” 

 

“This isn’t really the time to shop for cosmetics!” Waverly said, from where she stood closest to the door, gripping surreptitiously onto the back of Nicole’s coat. 

 

Rosita threw Waverly an exasperated sigh. “I’m confirming a hypothesis,” she said, turning back to Kate. “What is that?”

 

Kate held out the bottle. “It’s Max Factor’s new Tropical Coconut Creme lotion. I love it, reminds me of a Pina Colada.”

 

Rosita took the bottle and squeezed a drop into her hand, rubbing it between her fingers and sniffing it. She read the ingredients and nodded to herself, then returned to the gruesome tableau laid out in front of them. 

 

“Did John Henry use this lotion?”

 

Kate blushed as all eyes turned to her. “He, uhh..might have.” At Wynonna’s glare, she bristled, “We’ve been through this!”

 

Waverly reached over and smacked Wynonna’s arm. “She didn’t know he was married!”

 

“So he used the lotion on his dick?” Rosita asked.

 

“Jesus, Rosita!” Wynonna snapped, and Nicole snorted loudly, earning a heated glare from Waverly.

 

“I know, I know,” Wynonna sighed. “What am I gonna do?  What am I gonna tell Alice Michelle? Oh my god we can’t dissolve him in the bathtub, I bathe my child in there--we need to do something.” 

 

Rosita groaned, “Idiots, it’s anaphylactic shock. He was obviously allergic to coconut. You could have called an ambulance.”

 

Wynonna shook her head. “No that’s impossible. He loves nuts. He’s always eating those nut cluster candies and he loves that Waldorf salad thing that Waverly makes. He can’t be allergic to coconut. He has to have choked.” 

 

“Can I ask something?” Nicole piped up from where she’d sat herself on the arm of a chair. “If you thought he was choking, why didn’t you call the ambulance then?” 

 

“That’s what I said,” Kate singsonged, nodding.

 

Wynonna just glared at Nicole. “That asshole would do anything to skate out of this conversation. Not helpful, Red.”

 

“Coconuts aren’t tree nuts, it’s different. John Henry’s body was already compromised from the transdermal absorption of the lotion, and the coconut dessert must have saturated his system with the allergen,”  Rosita explained, an unseeming amount of excitement lacing her tone. “An allergy to coconut is exceedingly rare. I read about it once in a library book on manufactured toxins for ballistic delivery systems.”

 

Three sets of eyes stared at Rosita, who cleared her throat, shaking her head. “Anyhow, I’m gonna call the ambulance. No one here did anything wrong so let’s get this cleaned up, shall we?”

 

“Well, this has certainly been...interesting, but I’m going home,” Kate said. “Can I use the phone to call a taxi?” 

 

“I’ll drive you home,” Nicole offered, looking at Waverly with a question lingering in her eyes. “See you later, Waves?” 

 

Waverly nodded with a small smile. “I’ll stay and help Wynonna with...arrangements, and Alice Michelle, and see you tomorrow maybe?”

 

Rosita looked between them, a growing awareness in her expression, then nodded to herself. “I’ll stay too,” she said, striding to the rotary phone and dialing the emergency number. She covered the receiver with her hand. “The General won’t miss me until sunrise bugle time. Do you have any Swedish Meatballs left?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Lucky ](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) and [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1106204510324551680)on Twitter for a good time. Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter. It's...a doozy.

After the morgue came and took John Henry away, and the girls helped clean up the mess, Chrissy brought Alice. Rosita finally went home after asking the paramedics that came with the police officers too many questions. It was odd for Waverly to drive home in a quiet car. Far too quiet. It left her with her thoughts and there were a _lot_ of thoughts running through her brain.

First off, John Henry was dead. He was dead and her sister was a widow, her niece now without a father. For a moment Waverly had actually been concerned that Wynonna _had_ actually killed him, but thankfully it was another horrible accident.

Secondly...Nicole had kissed her.

Nicole had _kissed_ her. Actually kissed her. Unless it was some sort of insane dream brought on by the shock of the evening, but the way her lips were still tingling told her otherwise. 

It was an odd dichotomy of emotions. 

There was the grief from losing her brother-in-law in a...frankly horrifying way, just a few weeks after losing Champ. But there was also the elation of Nicole _kissing_ her.

She pulled into her garage and went into the house, eyes occasionally darting over to Nicole’s house. The curtains were drawn and the lights were off so Waverly figured Nicole had gone to bed already. The phone rang as soon as she stepped inside and she answered it without thinking, mind swimming with thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Waves,” came Nicole’s voice over the receiver. Warm and low and immediately comforting. “I saw you come home. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Waverly smiled at her voice and tucked the plastic receiver of the phone between her ear and shoulder as she bent down to take off her shoes. “I guess I’m fine. How are you?”

She heard Nicole sigh. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

Truthfully, Waverly wasn’t sure. But she had been taught to keep her feelings close to her chest. To keep people from knowing too much. A girl had to keep up appearances after all. But Nicole made her feel...safe and comfortable. Waverly wanted to open up to her.

“I-” Waverly took a deep sigh and ran a hand through her hair. “-I don’t know. I’m feeling...a lot of things.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Nicole asked quietly.

Waverly licked her lips. “Can you...come over?” Waverly asked before she realized what it sounded like. “I mean-...just for talking or-...you know. Not-”

“I know, Waves,” Nicole interrupted with a good natured chuckle. “I can come over. I’m uh...do you mind if I’m in my pajamas?”

“Not at all, I will be too,” Waverly said, thankful Nicole didn’t think she was some kind of pervert.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few.”

“Okay,” Waverly said. “Bye.”

She hung up the phone and realized she was still standing in the middle of her living room in her house dress that smelled creepily like coconut, and she hadn’t even washed her face yet.

“Fudge,” Waverly said, quickly flitting off into the restroom. She stripped down and slipped on her nightgown, splashing some water on her face and putting on cold cream before the doorbell rang. She pulled her silky light pink robe on as she made her way to the door, tying it loosely around her waist.

When she opened the door, Nicole was there with her long coat over her shoulders and what looked like men’s slippers on her feet. She smiled at Waverly, brown eyes taking in her form. 

“Long time no see,” Nicole said softly. 

Waverly stepped aside and let Nicole in, suddenly feeling self conscious in the dim light of her living room. As soon as the door was shut, Nicole pulled Waverly into her ams and she felt herself relax. She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around Nicole’s middle, burying her face in her neck and letting her scent wash over her. She thought she felt a soft kiss to the top of her head but couldn’t quite be sure if it was just wishful thinking or not. 

After a few moments, Nicole spoke up. Her voice rumbled in her chest and Waverly felt soothed by it. “What do you need? Want me to get you a drink?”

Waverly nodded against Nicole’s neck, not wanting to let go but knowing it was going to start to get awkward if she didn’t. Nicole squeezed her tight one last time and let go, shrugging her coat off her shoulders to reveal her pajamas, which apparently was just some men’s knit bottoms and a white undershirt. Waverly licked her lips and looked away.

“Go sit, I’ll get it,” Nicole said with a reassuring look over her shoulder as she went. Waverly, not used to being the one waited on in her own home, just nodded and walked wordlessly over to the record player. Even in the dim light, her fingers found her favorite album and she took it out of it’s sleeve before putting it on the player.

_I know, I know, you belong, to somebody new-_

She sat on the couch as Nicole came out with the drinks, handing one to Waverly, folding her long limbs under herself as she sat on the couch. Waverly turned so she was facing Nicole, matching how she was sitting. The low lighting only served to make Nicole more beautiful as Waverly took a sip of her drink.

Bringing her glass down to her lap, she used her free hand to reach out and hold Nicole’s hands. Their fingers laced naturally and Waverly felt some of the tension leaving her body. 

_Although, although, we're apart, you are a part of my heart-_

“Thank you for coming over,” Waverly said, alcohol already warming her veins. “I just...a lot has...happened.”

“How’s Wynonna?” Nicole asked.

“She seems fine, but if I know her she’s internalizing everything and it will come out in drinking,” Waverly sighed. “I’ll go back and check on her and Alice tomorrow. I’ve...already done all this funeral stuff so.”

Nicole squeezed Waverly’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

Waverly shrugged and leaned her cheek back against the couch. “It’s fine. It really is. Just...will take some getting used to.” She gazed sideways at Nicole. “Mostly I’m just sorry Wynonna...interrupted us earlier.”

Nicole chuckled and looked down at their entwined hands, eyes flickering up to Waverly’s with a fire that wasn’t there before. “She has really good timing.”

_Wait down by the stream. How sweet it will seem, once more just to dream in-_

Waverly took another sip from her drink in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She had been interrupted when she tried to kiss Nicole before. And the kiss in the kitchen was...brief at best. Barely a peck. Waverly was still dreaming of the air-from-her-lungs-stealing kiss that she had wanted. And Nicole was in front of her in her pajamas and looking at her like _that_.

There would be no more waiting, she decided in that moment. She was just going to go for it. 

Waverly tried to subtly scoot herself a little closer to Nicole but the tug at her lips told Waverly she had noticed. Her stomach flipped with nerves and she faltered, but another squeeze of her hand from Nicole was all she needed to know that it was okay. Nicole wanted this too.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, causing her bones to vibrate from the intensity of it all. They were closer than Waverly had originally thought but even the small gap felt like a chasm. As Waverly leaned forward, she grew so close that she could count every one of Nicole’s eyelashes.

Waverly paused, caught in Nicole’s beauty for a moment as everything hit her at once.

Nicole made her feel...like no one had ever made her feel. Safe and cared for and like she could do anything. _Be_ anything.

_But tonight, you belong to me-_

Brown eyes flickered over Waverly’s face, her free hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind Waverly’s ear. Waverly shivered at the touch, face turning slightly into Nicole’s palm as she caught her breath. Her hand not holding the glass had found its way to Nicole’s waist, playing nervously with the fabric of her shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Nicole whispered, thumb brushing over Waverly’s cheekbone. “Is everything okay?”

Waverly’s eyes fluttered shut and she just basked in Nicole’s words for a moment. She felt warm and her chest felt full. Is this what it was supposed to feel like the whole time? She smiled and looked back at Nicole.

“Yeah, I just...really really like you,” Waverly blushed, feeling more like a silly schoolgirl than anything else.

Nicole smiled brilliantly and brushed their noses together. “I really like you too, Waves,” she confessed. “Really really.”

They met each other in the middle, both leaning forward until their lips finally connected in more than a brief touch. Waverly’s mind went blank, it felt like every nerve in her body was standing up at attention when she felt the gentle caress of Nicole’s tongue against her bottom lip. 

Waverly’s fingers twisted in Nicole’s shirt as she pulled herself closer to her. Her glass pushed against her stomach and she huffed in frustration at its existence for a moment. Leaning back reluctantly, she finished off the contents of the glass quickly, Nicole following suit so that their glasses could be placed on the table. Once both of their hands were free, Nicole’s were on Waverly’s hips and pulling her into her lap. Waverly’s hands smoothed over Nicole’s shoulders and cupped her neck as their lips came back together and her thighs slid on either side of Nicole’s. 

What struck Waverly the most was how...natural it all felt. 

Nicole’s lips were soft and giving, not just taking the way Champ always seemed to kiss her. Any comparison to Champ flew out the window as soon Nicole’s tongue touched the seam of her lips again. Waverly met it eagerly, the slow fire that had started the first time she touched Nicole seeming to burn brighter.

She let out a small sigh when Nicole pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, goosebumps erupting over her skin. Nicole moved them, the air knocking out of Waverly’s lungs for a moment as Nicole’s strong arms lifted her so that her back was suddenly against the couch cushions and Nicole was hovering above her. Their lips never parted and Waverly’s hands tangled in long red waves, tugging Nicole impossibly closer.

Nicole’s hands burned on Waverly’s skin and she couldn’t get enough. The tie of Waverly’s robe had come open and Nicole’s hands found their way inside. Waverly could feel them over the silk of her nightgown on her waist, smoothing down to her hips. Nicole’s lips traveled across her jaw and Waverly couldn’t help how her legs tightened around Nicole’s waist. She was sure her nightgown had ridden up to expose an inappropriate amount of thigh, but the way Nicole nipped at Waverly’s pulsepoint made her forget propriety all together.

As much as she loved the feeling of Nicole’s lips on her neck, Waverly couldn’t stand them not being on her own any longer. She tipped Nicole’s chin up with her finger and brought their lips together again, feeling the slow, throbbing burn grow between them. 

Waverly didn’t think she’d ever been more turned on in her life. Her hands smoothed down Nicole’s back and found the hem of her shirt. She slipped her hands under Nicole’s shirt to the small of her back. 

Nicole moaned at the touch and slowly pulled away from Waverly. She let out an embarrassing whimper at the loss, pads of her fingers digging into Nicole’s back. Nicole chuckled at Waverly’s eagerness and her ears tinted. Was she being too much? But Nicole placed soft, reassuring pecks on her lips and eyelids and Waverly relaxed back into the couch.

“What’s wrong?” Waverly whispered, fingers idly brushing up and down Nicole’s spine. 

Nicole smiled down at Waverly, lips swollen and red and just so _kissable_. Waverly leaned up to kiss her again.

Nicole chuckled against her lips. “Waverly.”

“Hm?” Waverly hummed.

“As much as I love...this,” Nicole said, smirk even wider. “We should probably talk.”

Waverly felt ice run through her veins and she licked her lips nervously.

“Oh.”

“It’s not bad,” Nicole assured her. “I think. I just...am curious as to where your head is. Where your...heart is.”

Waverly found herself melting at the vulnerability in Nicole’s eyes. At the way that brown eyes searched Waverly’s face for answers. For any hint of how she was feeling. Waverly pushed her hands up the back of Nicole’s shirt and began kneading at some of the tenseness in her shoulder blades.

“I like you,” Waverly said.

“I know that,” Nicole said, eyes fluttering closed. “I like you too.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

Nicole placed another soft kiss on Waverly’s lips before sitting up, legs curled under her. Waverly followed suit, legs still on either side of Nicole as she leaned with her side against the back of the couch. 

“It’s not easy being...different,” Nicole said, her fingers stroking the skin on Waverly’s ankle mindlessly. She looked down for a moment before looking back at Waverly. “It’s not easy being an ‘other’.”

Waverly tipped her head against the couch and pulled one of Nicole’s hands into her lap. She looked down at the wedding ring on Nicole’s finger, thumb brushing over the simple band. Waverly hadn’t thought about anything beyond them being together. Everything felt like it existed in a perfect little bubble (despite all the death) and that nothing else mattered. Waverly had forgotten about the outside world. About how people whispered about unmarried women, and ‘wasn’t that just _queer_ , doesn’t she want kids?’

Waverly couldn’t say she wasn’t used to whispers and stares. Her family wasn’t exactly the most respected. But any thought of being without Nicole, of not seeing what they could be, felt far more tragic than any chance of people prying into their private lives.

“For me...any risk there is to...this,” Waverly started, “is worth it. To be with you. If you want me.”

Nicole smiled and squeezed Waverly’s ankle. “Darlin’, if you’re questioning whether I want you or not, I’m doing something wrong.”

Warmth settled over Waverly again and she pulled herself fully into Nicole’s lap, pleased how Nicole’s hands naturally found her hips. She pressed their foreheads together, heart beating quickly at the closeness of it all and at her own boldness. She didn’t know this part of her existed, the part that took what she wanted. It alighted her nerves with excitement that prickled along her skin.

“You’re definitely not doing anything wrong,” Waverly whispered, their noses bumping together briefly before she kissed the end of Nicole’s. “I’ve missed out on a lot in my life because I was following other people’s expectations. The last thing I want to miss out on is you.”

Nicole tipped her chin up so that she could kiss Waverly again and she melted down into her. Everything just felt so _right_. The rest of the world faded away and Waverly smiled against Nicole’s lips. 

“Stay with me tonight,” Waverly whispered with a blush. “I mean not for-...you know. I just-”

“I’ll stay,” Nicole interrupted. “We can just hold each other. If you want.”

“I’d like that,” Waverly said, unable to keep her smile at bay. 

“Good,” Nicole said as she wrapped her arms fully around Waverly and drew her closer. “Shall we, then?”

Waverly nodded and placed another kiss on Nicole’s lips before reluctantly pulling herself out of her arms. She wouldn’t be able to if not for the promise of being in them again soon enough. Taking Nicole’s hand in hers, she switched off the record player that had been hissing out empty air for who knew how long now, and led Nicole to her bedroom.

It felt...odd. Having someone in there. The only other person who had been in the room was Champ and even if she hadn’t missed him in her bed since...it still felt odd.

“Waves,” Nicole prompted gently. 

Waverly blinked and realized she had stopped in the doorway. She hummed and Nicole rubbed her arms from behind, placing a small kiss on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Waverly said, leaning back into Nicole. “This is just-...I’ve never shared a bed with anyone but Champ.”

“I understand,” Nicole said. “If it’s too much-”

Waverly shook her head and put her hand over Nicole’s. “It’s time.”

“Okay, baby,” Nicole whispered against her shoulder, lips brushing lightly over her skin. Waverly shivered and took Nicole’s hand again, pulling her towards the bed. She shrugged her robe off and let it fall carelessly to the floor before slipping between the cool sheets. She laid on her side as Nicole slipped in next to her.

They both lay on their sides for a moment staring at each other in the low light. Their hands rested on the pillows between them. Nicole reached her pinky out to link with Waverly’s as she smiled.

“Can I hold you?” Nicole asked softly. 

Waverly didn’t answer, instead she moved closer to Nicole and tucked her head under her chin. Her face pressed in Nicole’s neck, she placed a soft kiss at the base of her throat, not missing how Nicole shivered and wrapped her arms around her tighter. 

“Thank you,” Waverly said.

“Anytime, Waves,” Nicole said, voice already thick with sleep. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Waverly mumbled before drifting off to the best night’s sleep she’d ever had.

***

Waking up in Nicole’s arms felt like heaven. They had stayed close through the night despite Nicole’s unconscious spread once she fell asleep. When Waverly woke up, Nicole’s long limbs were sprawled widely on the bed and Waverly had maneuvered her way to being right beside her, arm over her middle and a leg over Nicole’s. Her head was propped on Nicole’s chest and she noticed, much to her dismay, a little bit of drool on her shoulder. Luckily Nicole was still asleep and Waverly could wipe it off before she noticed. She even managed to sneak off into the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair through once before putting herself back in bed like she’d been sleeping the whole time.

Nicole woke up, eyes blinking against the sun as she turned to curl more around Waverly. 

“Mornin’,” she drawled, chin resting on the crown of Waverly’s head. Her skin was warm from sleep and Waverly never wanted to leave the cocoon they were in. 

“Morning,” Waverly said, arms folded in front of her and squished between their bodies. Nicole pulled away just enough to kiss Waverly good morning. She hummed and frowned, opening one eye just enough to look at Waverly.

“Did you-...you taste like toothpaste.”

“Do I?” Waverly said, ducking back into Nicole’s neck with a blush.

After that night, Nicole found herself over at Waverly’s more than often. They would kiss like two teenagers necking in a drive-in movie, and then curl up and go to sleep. It would always end with Waverly feeling the pulsing of arousal between her legs and the skillful way that Nicole would grind her hips down into Waverly _certainly_ didn’t help.

But Waverly was worried to go further. She was standing on the precipice of more but the fall terrified her. Reading more of Nicole’s books, she felt semi-prepared...physically. But there was still the emotional element that kept her at bay. 

At the next book club, Waverly forced herself to sit across from Nicole. Her hands ached with the need to touch her at all times in the newness of their...whatever they were. And she wasn’t sure she could control herself if Nicole was next to her. 

Instead, she pushed her tuna casserole around on her plate and tried not to stare too hard at Nicole. But every time their eyes met, Waverly would blush and shyly look back down. 

Kate had joined them this week and it seemed that she and Wynonna had become best friends in the days since John Henry had died. Waverly could see the grief, the cracks in Wynonna’s facade that she tried to fill with booze. But she knew better than to poke and prod. Wynonna would come to her when she needed to. That much was true.

“I even managed to sew myself a new dress,” Wynonna said, flattening her hand over her skirt. “Kate helped of course.”

“Girl, we have fun,” Kate said, as she winked at Wynonna. 

Rosita pouted, mouth full of tuna casserole. “I can’t believe I’m the _only_ one that still has a husband.”

Chrissy frowned and Pierre yipped. “Um, excuse you, do you forget Perry?” She smiled widely and readjusted the new collar around Pierre’s neck, diamonds glittering and catching the light. “He bought Pierre this collar for our anniversary.”

“Yours and Pierre’s?” Wynonna asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Ha, ha, Wynonna,” Chrissy said sarcastically.

“And me...technically,” Nicole said with a crinkle of her nose as she took a sip of her drink.

“Hardly counts when he’s never home, Red,” Wynonna quipped. Her eyes darted between Waverly and Nicole, finally landing on Waverly with a smirk. “Lucky for you.”

Waverly blushed and shot Wynonna a look.

“Sorry to bring it back to me,” Rosita said as she shoveled another forkful of casserole into her mouth. “But what were the chances that my husband outlives all of yours.”

Wynonna leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees as she addressed Rosita. “When we were young...we had a horse. Her name was Betsy and I swear that she breathed out dust. She was literally ancient. Anyways, it started to get really hard for her to walk and get from place to place so Daddy took a shotgun one morning and...helped her.”

Waverly cringed at the story, nervously fiddling with the fork between her fingers. Her Mamma had always called Betsy _her_ horse and took Waverly for rides on her every weekend. Until Mama left, anyway.

“She...shot Betsy?” Chrissy whispered, putting her hands over Pierre’s ears like she was afraid he’d get the idea.

“Right between the eyes,” Wynonna said, as she pantomimed a gun between her eyebrows with her hand.

“What are you trying to say?” Rosita asked slowly. 

Wynonna sat back in her chair and shrugged. “I’m just saying...sometimes it’s more humane to put a suffering animal out of their misery.”

Chrissy gasped and Rosita shook her head. “No, I...Oh no. I could never.”

Waverly gave Wynonna a look. “You can’t go around suggesting these things, Nonna.”

“Yeah that’s all kinda fucked up,” Kate said, midway through her slice of Baked Alaska.

“I’m not _suggesting_ anything,” Wynonna said, raising her hands innocently. “I was just...relaying a story.”

Chrissy sighed. “Well, that got unnecessarily dark.”

She had released her hands from Pierre’s head and he was back to licking her plate.

“Well, on a lighter note, my husband’s wake is tomorrow,” Wynonna said, eyes shifting down to look at her empty plate. “So like...I’ll see you there.”

If Waverly found herself religious, she would have sent a prayer to the heavens right then.

***

Waverly’s hands wouldn’t stop moving. The nervous energy flowed through her as she flitted to and fro around the kitchen. She was wearing the same black dress she had worn to Champ’s funeral, a black pillbox hat fixed stylishly askew on her head. 

She arranged as many glasses on a tray as she could and began pouring the tomato juice in them about a quarter of the way up. She put a splash (and a half) of vodka in each one and finished it off with orange juice. She thought about Wynonna in the living room with Alice on her lap, fielding condolences from every person who had even thought about them in the past few years. 

Having just been in this situation...Waverly could more than empathize with how she was probably feeling. 

Waverly thought back to the recipe she had seen in her magazine and tapped her finger on the kitchen counter as she looked around. Wynonna had to have-

Aha!

Waverly grabbed the bunch of bananas from beside the fridge and began slicing them in half. She hummed as she cut little mouths into each half. She finished it off with little bits of liquorice as eyes, and a slice of tomato in the gaping mouth for a tongue, then placed them carefully into glasses so that the little heads poked from the rim of the glass. 

When she was satisfied, she took a deep breath and carefully picked up the tray. She carried it into the living room, practically wading through the cigarette smoke. It made all the lighting in the room feel yellow, the air thick with the quiet muttering of people who were socializing under the heavy pretense of grief. A record played softly somewhere but Waverly couldn’t hear the song.

The whole thing felt so...heavy. It made Waverly nervous.

She passed Perry standing in the corner of the room, drawing the blinds of a previously opened window. She watched as he peeked out, and glanced out a window herself to see nothing but a black car sitting across the street. Her interest waned as Alice ran to him, hugging his legs. Perry smiled and picked her up, making Waverly’s heart hurt as she searched again for her sister.

She saw Wynonna in a corner with Chrissy and Nicole and made a beeline for them, passing. around the tray. Everyone took a glass. Rosita rolled The General up to them and Wynonna nodded a polite hello. Satisfied, Waverly set the tray on the coffee table for the other guests, the black soulless “eyes” on the bananas staring up at the ceiling.

Wynonna pushed the banana absently out of the way and sipped on the drink. Her face crinkled in horror and the banana bumped against her nose. She did a double take, looking down at the drink as she swallowed.

“Baby girl,” she started, coughing a little, “and I say this with all due respect...but what the fuck is this?”

Chrissy sniffed her drink cautiously and prodded one of the eyes, which promptly fell into the glass. “Is that licorice?”

Pierre, Waverly noticed, had the decency to wear a black sweater for the occasion.

“It’s all the rage in Europe,” Waverly said a little defensively as she looked down at her own glass. “It’s called the Smiling Dolphin.”

“Looks like a dick, Waves,” Wynonna muttered under her breath. Chrissy gasped and Wynonna rolled her eyes. “I’m grieving. I can say what I want.”

“I, for one, think it’s cute,” Nicole said with an indulgent smile. 

Waverly smiled back at the redhead, practically preening under the compliment. She saw Rosita holding the banana out for The General to suck some of the drink off the bottom and quickly looked away.

Wynonna threw Nicole a look, eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah, Red? Well I haven’t seen you taste it.”

Nicole’s eyes got wide and her grip just a little tighter on the glass.

The smirk on Wynonna’s face was practically evil. “Go ahead, Red. Take a sip,” Wynonna sing- songed.

Nicole licked her lips, eyes darting to Waverly who looked at her expectantly. With a determined set to her jaw, Nicole took a small sip of the drink. Waverly noticed a slight cough as she swallowed and quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Mm, delicious,” Nicole sputtered.

Waverly beamed and Wynonna rolled her eyes.

“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you there?” she quipped. “Getting under my baby sister’s skirt can’t be worth drinking that monstrosity.”

Chrissy choked on her drink, and Waverly’s face completely flushed.

“Wynonna!”

“I’m grieving!”

 _”What?”_ Chrissy sputtered.

Waverly forced a smile and tried to play it off. “What… _what_ , Chrissy?” 

Chrissy looked between Nicole and Waverly. “Are you two…?”

“I hardly think a funeral is the place to discuss such things, do you Chrissy?” Rosita interrupted as she took a large bite out of her banana. 

“I didn’t-”

“Yeah, seriously, Chrissy,” Wynonna said dismissively. “What’s your problem?”

Chrissy’s ears turned red and she huffed. She must have also squeezed Pierre a little too hard under her arm because he let out a high squeak. 

Waverly looked over at Nicole who looked a little pale, but was also doing a great job looking disinterested. Waverly might have taken offense if she didn’t catch Nicole’s eye and spot the little glint that was there. 

Rosita had finished off her banana and took Wynonna’s, happily munching away at it. The General just sat in his chair, staring blankly at a wall. He had on a crisp uniform that hung on his bony frame and a blanket tucked over his legs. 

The silence hung in the air for a moment before Wynonna cleared her throat.

“The drink tastes like shit. But at least it gets the job done,” Wynonna said as she finished hers off, not bothering to censor her small burp. “Hey, brightside,” she said as she looked at Waverly, “we sure know how to throw one hell of a funeral.”

***

Rosita’s stomach growled as she unwrapped the fresh cut of beef she’d picked up from the butcher that morning. Even the red blood leaking onto the brown paper looked appetizing, and that’s how Rosita knew she was starving. 

General Lee whined, and she looked over at the two large collies staring up at her with those big brown eyes. Forrest sat next to him growling lowly in his throat, looking between the steak and Rosita. She wondered how long it would take for Forrest to eat her if she suddenly passed out on the floor. 

“One second, jeez,” she muttered as she used the cleaver to cut the piece of meat into cubes and threw them into the two metal dog bowls. The General had insisted from the beginning that his dogs only be fed the finest cuts of meat. Meanwhile Rosita suffered through soup for every meal of the day.

The two dogs sat obediently as she placed the bowls on the floor, strands of drool descending from their jowls as they eyed the bowls. She could relate. 

“Alright, go ahead,” she muttered. The dogs instantly lunged for their bowls and gobbled up the meat. Rosita’s stomach grumbled again and she put her hand on it instinctively. The dogs’ tails wagged in happiness as they licked the bowls clean and Rosita sighed. “Yeah yeah, don’t rub it in.”

She went back over to the stove where the human food was cooking. Although...to call this meal human food was debatable. The General had been on a kick lately and of course the only time he was lucid was when he was demanding what he wanted for his meal. His kick, unfortunately, had become split pea soup.

Rosita was on day six of the stuff and she was surprised she hadn’t changed to that dirty, dark green color that bubbled in the pot. 

She shut off the burner and dipped the ladle in, filling a bowl for herself and her husband. 

“Consuela!” He yelled from the living room. “The British are coming!”

“Which fucking war…?” Rosita said under her breath as she walked into the living room with their soup. He was staring out the window she had parked him in front of, pointing at a woman walking down the sidewalk pushing a baby carriage. 

“Alright,” Rosita said, setting the soup on his lap and folding a spoon directly into his hand. 

“Lupe,” he said very seriously, looking at her for the first time in days. “My safe.”

“Mhm, what about it?” she asked sweetly.

“There’s a bomb in there!” He said, eyes wild, “They put a bomb in it.”

“I don’t think-“

“I have to see it. Take me there,” he said as he almost knocked over his bowl of soup. Rosita sighed and pinched the space between her eyes. She already knew there was no point in arguing with him so she took his bowl and placed it with hers on the kitchen table. With a grumble, she wheeled him into his study and to the large old safe. She had never bothered opening it, figuring that’s just where all the important papers were kept. Once she had opened it to put their marriage certificate away, but that was it. 

She put in the combo and swung the heavy metal door open. The General peered into the safe, and said nothing.

“See, no bomb,” she said, gesturing to the inside. 

“Where’s my soup?” he asked peevishly.

Rosita sighed and rolled him back into the kitchen to eat his soup, before heading back into the study to close the safe. She looked inside one last time as something caught her eye, an envelope with the simple word ‘Will’ written on it. 

Briefly, she wondered if it would be...wrong to open it. He was her husband after all, right? Legally she had the right just to peek. Truthfully she didn’t know he had an actual will. Maybe it would give her some insight into what he did before they got married.

Not thinking much of it, Rosita pulled the will from the safe and opened it up. She scanned the opening paragraph only to pause when something caught her eye. 

_All items in the estate will be willed to Robert E. Lee and Nathan Forrest-_

He had willed everything...to the dogs. To the two dogs that Rosita had just served the best cut of steak from the butchers. 

“That motherfucker,” she whispered under her breath as she looked for her name...somewhere. But nothing. After years of taking care of him...nothing. Rosita carefully folded the will and put it back in the safe, fists clenched tightly. “That son of a bitch is going to rot in hell with Betsy.”

***

Waverly was just getting to the good part of the latest novel she had borrowed from Nicole, _Island of Lesbians_ , when there was a sharp knock on her door. She reluctantly put the book down, spine up, on the coffee table and stood up to answer the door. Whatever salesman it was, she would just tell them to kindly go on their way and she could get back to the book. She was excited to talk to Nicole about it later that night.

She hummed as she went to the door, already speaking before she opened it. “Hello, I’m sorry to say I’m very busy-”

Instead of a salesman like she was expecting, two tall police officers stood at her door, caps in their hands and crisp blue uniforms staring at her. One was blonde with a square jaw and the other had darker features, thick eyebrows dominating his face.

“Hello, ma’am,” the blond one said. “My name is Officer Gretchen and this is Officer Johnson. We’re here to talk to you about the recent passing of your husband.”

“Oh,” Waverly said, naturally putting a hand on her chest at the mention of Champ. She cleared her throat and suppressed her nervous urge to smile. Smiling at the mention of her husband’s untimely death felt...in poor taste. “What can I help you with, Officer?”

Officer Johnson cleared his throat and looked over Waverly’s shoulder. “Mind if we come inside, ma’am?”

It was not a question.

“Oh, sure,” Waverly said, stepping aside so that they could sit. She shut the door and sat on the couch, them across from her, with her hands folded on her lap. “So what can I do for you?”

She noticed the two of them staring at the book on her coffee table, cover proudly displaying bare breasted women wrestling each other on a beach. Waverly blushed and quickly grabbed it, shoving it behind one of the couch pillows. The officers looked at each other and back at Waverly.

“So, Mrs. Hardy,” Officer Johnson started. “How long were you and Mr. Hardy married?”

“Oh, um,” Waverly squinted and did some quick math in her head. “Three years and some change. Right out of high school we got married.”

“Right, right...and didn’t you take driver’s ed in school, Mrs Hardy?” 

Waverly’s hands began to prickle with nerves but she kept them steady on her lap through some sort of miracle. “I did. Got my license and everything.”

“Then you knew how to drive a car?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you still managed to run over your husband?” 

Waverly felt the heat rising in the collar of her dress and swallowed thickly. “It was...a horrible disaster. He scared me when he banged on the trunk of my car and-...I mean, being a woman, you understand why I would startle.”

They both seemed satisfied with that answer, nodding knowingly. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Waverly started, “but I do believe I gave my statement to Sheriff Nedley the day of the incident.”

“We understand, ma’am, but recently an insurance agency came to us with some new...evidence we wanted to take a look at,” Officer Gretchen said. “Standard procedure.”

Panic began to constrict Waverly’s chest, fear weaving through her ribs. “Well, despite your _standard procedure_ , it was ruled an accident and I don’t appreciate some flatfoots coming in to dig up the grief again.”

“Now listen here, ma’am,” Johnson started. “We understand this is a hard time-”

“It is,” Waverly said, feeling the beginning of tears prickling in her eyes. She’d always been great at fake crying. “I’m just trying to get over my husband’s death and at every turn someone’s bringing it up again.”

“We’re...sorry,” Officer Gretchen said, as Waverly wiped at the corners of her eyes. The two, clearly uncomfortable with unfiltered female emotion, stood. “We’ll be on our way for now. We’re terribly sorry for your loss.”

Waverly just nodded, now sobbing openly into her hands.

“We’ll call if we have anymore questions,” they said as they backed out the door, closing it behind them. Waverly remained in her same position for a moment before dropping her hands and looking after them. Her gut twisted and she wiped away the fake tears. 

“Fuck.”

***

Waverly didn’t bother finishing the book before heading to Nicole’s. She gave the police a few moments head-start before pulling on her coat and heading for the redhead’s house. She checked up and down the street before she made it over, knocking quickly on the door. 

It only took a moment for Nicole to answer the door. Waverly breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Nicole was in pants. It meant Fish wasn’t home. Waverly put her hand on Nicole’s chest and pushed her into the house, shutting the door behind them. Waverly leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss Nicole in greeting, a little of the tension leaving her.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Nicole asked with a frown.

The corner of Waverly’s mouth twitched in a smile. “How could you tell something was wrong?”

“I can tell, you seem tense,” Nicole said, hands rubbing Waverly’s arms and eyebrow furrowed in concern. Champ had never been that observant with her. Or even cared really. 

“I just…” Waverly sighed and reached for Nicole’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “The police came to talk to me. About Champ.”

Nicole’s brow furrowed deeper. “I thought they already talked to you about that?”

Waverly sighed and started towards the couch. “They did! That’s why I-“ She stopped in her tracks and looked around. The living room felt...oddly bare. Fish’s jacket wasn’t hanging by the door like it always had been; pictures and Fish’s large glossy photo books were gone. Waverly panicked for a moment. “Are you packing? Are you leaving?”

“No no,” Nicole quickly assured Waverly, tucking some hair gently behind her ear. “Fish...left this morning. He wants to go by _Ambrose_ now and has...well he ran off to join that cult. Full time.”

“What?” Waverly breathed. 

“Yeah,” Nicole said, throwing her arms out to her side and letting them slap back down against her thighs. “I knew he was going off with a bunch of men in the desert but...I thought they were just… _fucking_ or taking erotic photos. I was joking when I called it a cult but apparently I wasn’t far off.”

“He’s gone? For good?” Waverly asked.

“Seems like it,” Nicole said, pushing a hand through her hair as she looked around “He packed up all his shit and left. Said something about a plot of land in the middle of Utah.”

“Holy shit,” Waverly breathed. “Is this...is this good or bad?”

Nicole’s eyes became unfocused for a moment and she shook her head. “I’m...not sure yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Waverly said, stepping forward and putting her arms around Nicole’s waist. Nicole kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her hair. 

“It’s fine. Tell me what the police said,” Nicole whispered.

“Nothing I haven’t already been asked,” Waverly mumbled against Nicole’s collarbone. “I just worry that...I don’t know. They’ll think I did it on purpose.”

“But you didn’t,” Nicole said, tone reassuring. 

Waverly shut her eyes tightly and held Nicole closer. She could feel the heat of her tears against her eyelids. “Sometimes I...wonder if it was on purpose.”

She sniffled and pressed her face harder into Nicole’s chest as hot tears leaked down her cheeks. Nicole whispered comforting nonsense in her ear, breath tickling and making Waverly feel safe. 

“You didn’t, baby. It’s going to be fine. Okay?”

“What if it’s not,” Waverly whispered. “What if it’s not okay?”

“I’ll be right here with you, Waves. No matter what you need,” Nicole said. 

There was something in the air that felt like electricity. Something crackling and popping between them in a way that made Waverly’s hair stand on end. Like their hearts were truly connecting for the first time. It was every sappy thing Waverly had read before, coming to life between them. 

“How are you real?” Waverly whispered, fingers smoothing over the skin just barely visible under the unbuttoned top button of Nicole’s shirt. She watched the goosebumps appear under her touch and curled her fist into the front of Nicole’s shirt. 

“Stay with me tonight,” Nicole whispered. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need,” Waverly said, without even thinking. “As long as you’ll have me.”

*** 

She felt bad. She did. Her mother was probably turning in her grave. 

“ _Mija, all life is precious_ ,” her mother used to say. 

Rosita believed it. But was it really a life if you were just eating soup and staring out a window all day? Rosita was doing him a favor. 

Still the sickness rolled in her stomach as she said, _Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia. El Seńor es contigo. Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre Jesús._ ” 

She finished grinding the entire bottle of sleeping pills in the mortar and pestle, passed down from her great-grandmother, and poured the powder into the thick green split pea soup. She licked her lips, voice wavering as she finished. 

“ _Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Lucky ](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) and [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1106204510324551680) on Twitter for a good time. Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> Please enjoy this amazing and hilarious and...maybe a little angsty chapter by Lucky. 
> 
> Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Waverly muttered under her breath, as the siren wailed past her house, red and blue lights strobing across her butter yellow walls. “There’s just no way…”

 

Waverly looked out the window. There was no missing its destination. The ambulance had pulled up in front of the pillared facade of The General’s neo-Antebellum monstrosity, and two young men now hustled up the wide steps, dragging a gurney between them. 

 

“No, no, no,” Waverly chanted. She pulled her apron over her head and tossed it haphazardly onto the counter, not even stooping to recover it when it slid to the floor.  She grabbed for the telephone and started to dial Rosita’s number, before shaking her head and slamming her finger down on the hook switch. Obviously, Rosita couldn’t answer the phone now. 

 

“I should just go over there.” Waverly ran to the front closet and grabbed her coat, pulling it around her shoulders and buttoning the front. Stepping down the walkway, she began towards Rosita’s, only to stop in her tracks when a police cruiser rolled by, gliding up behind the ambulance and parking. “Shit,” she hissed, turning on her heel and walking briskly the other direction. She found herself bypassing her own house before she knew it, and knocked quietly at Nicole’s door, casting a nervous glance back up the street to where the two officers who had visited her previously were now ambling into The General’s house. 

 

Nicole’s door swung open and Waverly immediately breathed out a loud sigh, reaching for Nicole before she could stop herself. With a soft smile, Nicole drew her inside, her expression changing when she saw the vehicles up the street. 

 

“What happened?” Nicole asked, leaning out the door. “Is Rosita okay?” 

 

“She must have killed him!” Waverly blurted, slapping her palm to her mouth and staring wide-eyed at Nicole. 

 

Nicole whipped around to look at Waverly. “Why do you say that? We don’t even know what’s going on over there.”

 

A clattering noise from up the street drew their attention and Nicole looked back out, Waverly leaning to peek around Nicole’s shoulder. The paramedics were rolling the gurney out, a tiny form on it now with a sheet covering its face. Rosita stood on the porch wringing her hands in front of herself, as the two officers stood by sporting vaguely compassionate expressions, a notebook at the ready in Johnson’s hand.  Gretchen looked over at Nicole’s house and--

 

“Shut the door, Nicole,” Waverly hissed, pulling her head inside, and Nicole complied. She turned to face Waverly, pacing back and forth around the now sparsely furnished living room. 

 

“Waverly, stop,” Nicole said, reaching for her and smiling appeasingly. “I think you’re starting to get a little...paranoid?”

 

Waverly shot Nicole an incredulous look. “I’m getting paranoid? First Champ dies and the insurance drops off fifty thousand dollars and everything is just fine, and then all of a suddent cops show up at my house to ask more questions. Then John Henry dies from eating a coconut dessert. A coconut dessert, Nicole! Who ever even heard of such a thing?” 

 

“Waverly--” Nicole tried.

 

“No, Nicole! First me, then my sister, now one of my best friends! They’re gonna think we’re the Philadelphia Poison Ring!” 

 

“The what now?” Nicole looked confused as Waverly threw her hands in the air in exasperation. 

 

“Read a newspaper, Nicole!” 

 

“Waverly!” They both stopped and stared at each other, as Nicole cleared her throat, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Waves, I didn’t mean to yell. But we don’t even know what happened. The General was very old, Waverly, I mean, he fought in the Civil War.”

 

Waverly squinted her eyes, tipping her head in thought. “We don’t actually know which war he fought in.”

 

“But he’s always wearing a…”

 

“Rosita says that one’s his favorite.” Waverly took a deep breath, reaching for Nicole’s hands and swinging them between them as she smiled shyly up at Nicole. “I’m sorry, Nicole, you’re right. I totally overreacted. I’m just really stressed from the police officers who stopped by, and just...everyone  _ dying _ .” Tears rose unbidden to cloud Waverly’s eyes, and Nicole tutted sympathetically, pulling Waverly close. She wrapped her arms around her.  

 

“I know, baby.” 

 

Waverly smiled into Nicole’s chest, breathing deeply of her scent, comforted by Nicole’s warmth and the sweetness of the pet name rolling off her tongue. She pulled back to look at Nicole, noticing for the first time the rolled up dungarees, cinched in at the waist, with a paint splattered white men’s button up shirt tucked in. An emerald green bandana held Nicole’s hair back. 

  
“You have paint on your nose,” Waverly smiled, rubbing at the spot as Nicole looked cross-eyed at her finger. 

 

“I’m painting Fish’s office,” Nicole said with a small sigh, her eyes soft on Waverly.

 

A rapping at the door jolted them apart and Waverly stared wide-eyed at Nicole. Adjusting her hair and dress, Waverly stepped a respectable distance away as Nicole opened the door to reveal Officers Johnson and Gretchen. Bile rose in her stomach when Officer Gretchen’s eyes flicked her way, narrowing. 

 

“Mrs. Haught?” Officer Johnson asked, Officer Gretchen’s eyes seeming almost predatory as he kept staring at Waverly. 

 

Nicole straightened up so that the two officers had to lift their heads to look her in the eye. “ _ Ms _ . Haught, that’s me, how can I help you?”

 

“As I’m sure you noticed earlier,” Johnson started, stepping towards the threshold,  “your neighbor, Mr. Whitechapel, was taken away in the ambulance.” Nicole didn’t budge from her position, firmly blocking the doorway and extending no invitation for the officers to come inside. 

 

“Yes, my neighbor Mrs. Hardy and I,” Nicole gestured to Waverly, “were just about to walk over to check on Mrs. Whitechapel. We just didn’t want to interfere with your business, gentlemen.”

 

“Is your husband home?” Officer Gretchen asked Nicole, a bit too harshly, in Waverly’s opinion. 

 

“My husband moved out,” Nicole said simply. “Now is there anything you needed specifically? It’s been a very trying time for the women on this block and we’d really like to go see our friend.” 

 

Gretchen made a mocking noise and Nicole looked at him sharply. “It’s just that, her husband,” he pointed at Waverly, “died accidently. And now your husband  _ moved out _ .” Officer Gretchen looked Nicole up and down, taking in her trousers with an overt sneer.

 

Waverly burst into tears, and Gretchen shifted uncomfortably as if suddenly aware of himself, all of the aggressiveness seeming to go out of him. Johnson threw him a dirty look. 

 

“I don’t like your attitude, Officer Gretchen,” Waverly sobbed. “Just wait until I tell Randy Nedley about the way you’ve been talking to us.” She backed away from the door and sat down on the couch, head bent into her hands. 

 

“Why don’t you go wait in the car, partner,” Johnson muttered to Gretchen. 

 

Nicole cleared her throat pointedly. “Is there anything you needed? You knocked on my door.” 

 

Johnson turned his hat nervously in his hands, clearly befuddled by the entire exchange. “I’m sorry ma’am, we just had to ask a couple questions, but it’s fine.” He tried to look around Nicole to see Waverly. “I uhh, well...condolences.” Johnson almost ran back to the patrol car as Nicole firmly shut the door, striding quickly across the living room to take Waverly into her arms. 

 

“Baby, baby...it’s ok,” she soothed, rocking Waverly gently. 

 

“I just...” Waverly cried, “had no idea his last name was Whitechapel.” 

 

Nicole smiled into Waverly’s hair. “How about we find something to put together in the kitchen for Rosita.” 

 

***

 

Nicole was just putting the final leg onto the console table she’d built on her Shopsmith, running her fingers down the wood with a satisfied smile, when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock. Waverly was supposed to be spending the afternoon watching Alice, and Nicole wasn’t expecting anyone, so who could it be? She stood up, stretching out her stiff knees with a grimace, and went to the door. Officer Gretchen stood on the porch, hat in hand, an unreadable expression on his face. 

 

“Officer Gretchen,” Nicole greeted politely. She looked out to his car, parked ostentatiously across the apron of her driveway. “Where’s Officer Johnson today?” 

 

“May I come in?” Gretchen asked without answering Nicole’s question, and she stepped back to allow the officer into her living room, closing the door behind them. Gretchen walked into the middle of the room and looked around, taking in the bare walls and sparsely furnished space. He nodded to himself as if confirming something, and Nicole found herself becoming irritated. 

 

“Not to be rude, but I’m in the middle of something,” she said, as Officer Gretchen turned to look at her with his flat, shark-like eyes. 

 

“What’s your relationship with Mrs. Hardy?” he asked abruptly. 

 

Nicole bristled. “Excuse me? Mrs. Hardy is my neighbor, we’re friends.” 

 

Gretchen stepped closer to Nicole, his eyes flicking up and down her outfit, and Nicole felt the first small thrill of fear. She cursed herself inwardly for choosing the dungarees she was wearing that day. 

 

“Mrs. Haught, I used to work in the City. Do you remember when The Monocle got shut down? I was there for that.” 

 

Nicole felt her mouth dry up as Gretchen continued, feigning obliviousness.

 

“It was really disgusting, that place, where women  _ like you _ would lure innocent young girls, make them do things, do things  _ to _ them…”

 

“I never!--” Nicole interrupted harshly. 

 

The officer stopped pacing and looked at Nicole, a sneer affixed to his angular face, “You were lucky your husband paid off the lawyer for you and you don’t have a criminal record. But dykes like you, trouble always seems to find you.” He stepped up to Nicole so the toes of his shoes nearly touched hers. “Did you convince that sweet Mrs. Hardy to run over her husband?”

 

Nicole tried to step away, but the backs of her knees hit her couch and she stumbled into a sitting position. Now she had to look up at Officer Gretchen, the crisp expanse of his dark blue uniform, and the thick leather duty belt. He tossed a feral grin down at her and rested his palm on the gleaming rosewood grip of the revolver slung at his hip. He stared at her, “Well?” 

 

Nicole’s mouth was parched now, her throat swollen with shame and fear as she remembered that night in the city, the girls screaming as officers rushed through the dim club and the occasional  _ thwack _ of a leather sap striking flesh. She could never let something like that happen to Waverly, she thought sadly, steeling herself to make what she hoped was a submissive enough glance at the officer, then bowing her head to stare at the floor. 

 

“I just moved into the neighborhood a few weeks before Mr. Hardy died. I’d barely had a chance to get to know him, and Mrs. Hardy and I only visited on a few occasions. I attended a book club that she hosted with Mrs. Whitechapel and...a few other girls.”

 

A heavy silence filled the room and Nicole was forced to look up at the officer again to see if he was satisfied with her answer. His dark eyes flicked all over her face, searching for any signs of deceit. Finding only a satisfying glaze of fear in Nicole’s pinched forehead and tight mouth, he nodded and stepped back out of Nicole’s space. 

 

“I’m gonna give you some advice, Mrs. Haught. Stay away from Mrs. Hardy...and the other ladies in this town. Keep your deviant ideas to yourself, or I will take you to jail for conspiracy to commit murder.” 

 

The blood dropped from Nicole’s face, and her hands suddenly felt freezing. “Conspiracy to...Mr. Hardy’s death was an accident. The Sheriff himself investigated it, and the insurance company. I--I didn’t even know him. I had nothing to do with anything…”

 

Gretchen leaned down until Nicole could smell his breath, minty as if he’d been chewing gum before he stopped by. “Who do you think people will believe? Me, an officer of the law? Or you, a sexual predator.” He smiled disarmingly and placed his hat back onto his perfect blond hair. Tipping the brim at Nicole with one finger, the officer walked to the door. “I’ll see myself out,” he called over his shoulder. “Have a nice day!” 

 

***

 

Waverly huffed in frustration. It was the third time that day that she’d knocked on Nicole’s door without an answer. It was all she could do to keep herself from peering in the front window through cupped palms. She’d offered to make Nicole lunch that day, and Nicole had seemed so excited to try Waverly’s Cheese-and-Chutney-Tantalizers, so where was she? Waverly walked back to her own house and went inside, wandering to the kitchen where she poked at the congealing bread rounds that she’d arranged so neatly on the plate. The phone rang suddenly, startling Waverly from her moody reflection. 

 

“Hello?” she answered, a hopeful lilt in her voice.

 

“Hello, Waverly, it’s Nicole.” 

 

Waverly smiled brightly into the phone, as if Nicole could see her. “Of course it’s you, silly, did you think I wouldn’t know your voice right away? Are you home now? I made lunch!” 

 

A deep sigh carried through the plastic handset and Waverly frowned. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“Waverly,” Nicole started, and Waverly stomach flip-flopped nervously at her tone, “I think it’s best if I don’t come for lunch today. I umm...I need a little space to, uhh, process Fish leaving, and it’s not really fair of me to put that on you.”

 

For the first time since Champ died, Waverly felt a crushing pressure in her chest. She shook her head to clear it, obviously Nicole deserved whatever space she needed, right? It wasn’t about  _ her _ . But a tiny voice in Waverly’s mind couldn’t be quieted, as she wondered to herself if Nicole was over...whatever this was becoming between them.

 

“Of...of course Nicole.” Waverly cleared her throat. “Take all the time you need. I can even drop off the food, if you’d like? It would be nice to--”

 

“No need,” Nicole answered, no hint of remorse in her voice. “I’ll just talk to you later, okay? Bye, Waverly.” 

 

The sound of the dial tone in Waverly’s ear shocked her into motion as she slowly lowered the receiver into the cradle. Doubt, fear, and confusion warred for dominance in her mind. She looked around her spotless kitchen, then down at the counter to where her sandwiches sat, mocking her. 

 

“Damnit!” Waverly cursed, slapping the counter. She grabbed the plate and tossed it into the trash, sandwiches and all, then bent over the counter, her head in her hands, only to startle upright again when a tentative knocking came at the door. 

 

Waverly allowed herself the briefest moment of hope. Maybe Nicole had reconsidered, she thought. It wouldn’t take much to craft new sandwiches, or they could pick something else out of the cookbook together. Waverly dabbed quickly at her eyes, patting down her hair as she swung open her front door to find Chrissy standing there, Pierre tucked, as usual, under her arm. 

 

“Oh hello, Chrissy,” Waverly greeted, suddenly inordinately pleased to have a guest who wasn’t burdened with grief. “Did you get a new car?”

 

Chrissy smiled brightly, looking over her shoulder at the sleek black car idling at the curb. “No, Perry says he thinks it’s safer for a driver to take us around. Isn’t that sweet?” She turned back to Waverly. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by unannounced.” 

 

Waverly nodded, then reached to hug her friend. “Well I am so glad to see you, come in!” 

 

Waverly took Chrissy’s coat and hung it in the closet. After pulling out a few refreshments, they settled back onto the sofa. 

 

“Waverly,” Chrissy began, a nervous tone to her voice, “there’s something going on that’s making me really worried for you.”

 

Waverly’s hands suddenly felt clammy, and she wiped them on the skirt of her dress. Chrissy watched the motion and then tilted her head questioningly.  _ She knows about Nicole and me _ , Waverly thought,  _ how to explain? _

 

“I was visiting daddy at the police station and I heard this officer talking about you. Officer Gretchen?” 

 

Waverly nodded at Chrissy, “Yes, he came to talk to me about Champ’s accident. For some reason he thinks it’s….not one.” 

 

“Well not only that,” Chrissy continued, “but he was talking about John Henry too. And how weird it was that you and Wynonna are sisters and both of your husbands died.”

 

“He came over to Nicole’s right after The General died.”

 

“Nicole told you that?” Chrissy asked, a furrow creasing her brow.

 

“No, I uh...was visiting with her at the time.” Waverly’s eyes flicked nervously sideways, and Chrissy considered her with more than her usual amount of interest, then waved her hand dismissively. 

 

“The General was...very old. It’s not surprising that poor man died in his sleep, I mean, it was inevitable! Do you know how old he was?” 

 

Waverly gave a watery laugh. “Actually, no. We were trying to figure that out. Rosita was dealing with the funeral home and realized that not one of The General’s documents has the same birthdate on it, including their marriage license!”

 

Chrissy placed Pierre on the floor and he began tottering around the living room. It occured to Waverly that she’d almost forgotten that Pierre had feet. Chrissy leaned in and took Waverly’s two hands in her own. 

 

“Waverly, you are one of my closest friends, and I love you very much,” Chrissy said. “I don’t know if you’ve gotten yourself into something here, maybe by accident and maybe on purpose--”

 

“Chrissy, no!” Waverly choked out, shaking her head rapidly. 

 

“--but this Officer Gretchen seems convinced that Nicole is bad news. He knows some things about her from before she came to Purgatory. Listen, I see how close your friendship has become already, Waverly, and it’s wonderful that you’ve found another close gal-pal right next door, but you don’t really know anything about her, do you?”

 

“Nicole is...amazing,” Waverly insisted. “She built airplanes for our boys during the war! She’s kind, and talented, and gentle.” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the way Chrissy was looking at her, nodding knowingly with her lips rolled in. Chrissy reached for her glass of lemonade and finished it, then patted Waverly’s knee. 

 

“Just be careful, Waves, okay? For me?” She leaned down and called for Pierre in a horrible screechy tone, “C’mon baby boy! Daddy’s waiting for us at home!” Waverly watched the dog’s weird little hopping gait as he scampered over to Chrissy, flinching a little in disgust as her friend scooped him up and plastered wet kisses all over the tiny rat-like snout. “Mm, mm, mm, I wuv you so much!” Chrissy cooed, standing up from the couch with a final glance at Waverly. 

 

“I’ll see you at The General’s wake, Waves?” she asked softly. Waverly nodded and rested her hand on Chrissy’s arm as she pulled Chrissy’s coat out of the closet and handed it to her. 

 

“I’ll see you there. And...thank you.” 

 

***

 

All Rosita could think to herself was  _ thank god _ The General had no family, at least none that she knew of. They’d been married by a Justice of the Peace, and he’d never mentioned so much as an ex-wife. Obviously The General liked women, if his behavior at the club was any indication, and in the early years of their marriage he’d groped feebly at her backside or breasts when the opportunity presented, but in his decrepit state there was never any danger of anything more happening. 

 

She’d asked him once or twice why he never married, but her husband had just smiled toothlessly and answered that he’d never felt the need to marry a woman until her beautiful face graced his life. At the time, it was a sweet sentiment, made sour now by that damned piece of paper locked up in the safe. Clearly, all The General had wanted was someone to take care of him for the remaining years of his life. And he never intended to waste his dog food money on an actual nurse.  Rosita was determined to not waste her freedom on the damned dogs, but she was going to have to come up with a plan to support herself, and soon. 

 

_ “Ese bastardo barato,” _ Rosita muttered, folding up another mothball scented uniform and placing it into the large cardboard box in front of The General’s closet. Eventually she would need to call for someone to take all this stuff away. She considered the pile of sabers she’d collected. Maybe a military museum would be willing to pay a few dollars for them? Rosita turned back to her work, brushing an unruly strand of dark hair out of her face. 

 

_ Knock-knock _ . General Lee and Forrest stood up, bristling and barking at the door loudly until Rosita snapped her fingers and pointed at their large feather beds. “At least you assholes are well trained,” she muttered to them as they obediently curled up, ears up at alert. 

 

Rosita walked to the front door, the brisk rapping peaking her curiosity. The man standing on the other side couldn’t have been more than twenty-one years old, all smooth-shaven caramel skin and the most precise high-and-tight she’d ever seen. His crisp green uniform seemed to be painted onto his slim waist and broad shoulders, and his shoes shone brightly enough to blind Rosita. Upon seeing her, he snapped to attention with a sharp salute. 

 

“Good morning, ma’am,” he bellowed. “I am First Lieutenant Marco Houston. Are you Mrs. Bullwinkle Whitechapel?” 

 

Rosita stood there for a moment, before she realized that was her husband’s name being spoken. The young soldier on the porch looked briefly chastised, misinterpreting her silence for stunned grief. He lowered his hand and schooled his features into a look of sympathy.  “I’m very sorry for your loss.” 

 

Rosita shook her head. “No, no, that’s fine,” she offered. “Honestly, we always just called him The General. I’d forgotten his Christian name was Bullwinkle.” She laughed in what she hoped was a fond manner, and was relieved when Lieutenant Houston laughed with her. 

 

“Oh yes, ma’am, I can totally understand that! What with his exceptionally noteworthy military career!”

 

“Would you like to come in, please?” Rosita asked, moving away from the door to allow him inside. Lieutenant Houston nodded politely and entered the house with brisk steps, then waited patiently to be directed to the living room. Rosita directed him to the couch, then sat across from him. 

 

Houston removed a folded piece of paper from his uniform pocket and began to read. “ On the behalf of the Secretary of Defense, I extend to you and your family my deepest sympathy in your great loss. Brigadier General Bullwinkle Campbell Whitechapel was a force to be reckoned with during the Battle of Yorktown, resulting in the surrender of a substantial amount of enemy forces.” 

 

Rosita frowned. “Wait, what did you say?”

 

Lieutenant Houston continued on blithely, reading from the paper as if his career depended on it. “As soldiers of this war were wont to do, Brigadier General Whitechapel placed a large portion of his earnings into military bonds, to be delivered to his next of kin upon his demise. We have obtained a copy of your marriage license and confirmed that you, Rosita Bustillos Whitechapel, are the only known kin of the Brigadier General. It is therefore my pleasure to present you with this check, to sustain you during this difficult time of loss.” 

 

The Lieutenant bounded to his feet, pulling an envelope from his pocket and handing it to Rosita with a flourish, then saluting again. Rosita swore she could hear his uniform crackle with every movement. 

 

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Did you say The Battle of Yorktown?”

 

“Yes ma’am!” Houston confirmed, nodding rapidly. “That was a doozy alright!” 

 

_ “Jesus _ ,  _ Mary y Joseph _ ,” Rosita breathed, then smiled bravely at the soldier. “Thank you so much for coming.” She guided him towards the door where he, once again, locked up at attention, then smiled and strode down the steps to his waiting car. 

 

The door felt cool against Rosita’s back and she slowly pulled the check out of the envelope, her mouth dropping open at the sheer number of zeros, and the sight of her name typed neatly alongside the  _ Pay To The Order Of _ .

 

A knock at the door startled her out of her shocked reverie as General Lee and Forrest revived their enthusiastic barking, and she clutched the papers to her chest, looking wildly around.  _ They must have realized their mistake _ , she thought,  _ and they’re coming to take it back _ .  She crammed the check into a drawer in the key table next to the door.

 

_ “El sabe que estoy aqui _ ,” she muttered. “Just a minute!” Rosita took a deep breath and fixed a smile on her face, swinging the door open. “Lieutenant, I…”

 

The man on the porch grinned brightly at Rosita. He was stocky and muscular, like an athlete, and wore an appropriately sporty red wool jacket with white leather sleeves and a large felt letter “C” emblazoned on the chest, like a high school football star. Rosita looked up and down the street, wondering if handsome men were going to appear on her doorstep every hour. 

 

“Good day, ma’am! I’m Jeffrey Dorrance, from the Campbell’s Soup company. Is Mr. Bullwinkle Whitechapel in today?”

 

Rosita blinked at the man, trying to absorb what was happening. “Mr. Whitechapel, my husband, just passed away,” she finally managed, watching Mr. Dorrance’s smile drop from his face, to be replaced by what appeared to be...regret?”

 

“Your husband?” The man looked her over, then around her into the house as if The General might be hidden behind her. “But you’re...well, golly! Isn’t that just my luck,” Mr. Dorrance sulked, then looked quickly up at Rosita. “Oh! I’m so sorry ma’am, my condolences.” 

 

“Of course,” Rosita said. “Ummm, is there something I can do for you?”

 

“Yes ma’am, I am director of the Food Sciences division for the Campbell’s company. Well as it so happens, I have been looking for your husband for a long time,” Mr. Dorrance said. Rosita had never felt more confused in her entire life. “Oh yes,” Dorrance continued. “My life’s regret will be that it’s taken me this long to finally locate him, and now he’s gone, and I’ll never know what his motivations were.”

 

“His...motivations?” Rosita’s head was spinning now, but she suddenly remembered her manners. “Would you like to come in?” she invited. 

 

“I sure would!” Dorrance walked eagerly inside and stood waiting for her in the foyer. Suddenly he lifted his head and began sniffing obviously.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rosita said. “I’m cleaning out some old stuff.”

 

“Is that split pea soup I smell?” Mr. Dorrance asked, an eager expression on his face.

 

Rosita nodded slowly. “Yes, I was just heating up some leftovers.” She still wasn’t sure why she ate the stuff now that The General was gone.  _ Desperdicio no, quiero no,  _ her mother’s voice whispered, every time she hovered the frozen containers of soup over the trash can. She watched as Mr. Dorrance licked his lips, swallowing loudly. 

 

“Would you...like some?” 

 

Dorrance looked at her as if she’d just offered him eternal life. “Seriously?” he asked, eyes shining.

 

“Absolutely!” Rosita walked into the kitchen, Dorrance hard on her heels, and ladled a bowl full of the thick, green concoction. She set the bowl on the kitchen table and fetched a spoon and napkin. “Sorry about the casual set-up, I wasn’t expecting any guests today.” Rosita apologized, but Dorrance was already plunging the spoon into the soup and shoving it eagerly into his mouth. 

 

“Oh my god!” he moaned, and Rosita flinched. “I’m sorry--” she started.

 

“This is amazing! Perfect!” He slurped loudly, moaning in pleasure, scraping the spoon against the bowl so as to collect any residue along the sides. Rosita stood, stunned, watching as Mr. Dorrance devoured the soup like a starving refugee.  When every scrap of pea-green sludge was gone Rosita held her breath, waiting to see if Dorrance would lick the bowl clean. To her disappointment, he just slumped back in the chair, a sated, dreamy expression on his face. 

 

“That was definitely the original recipe,” he sighed. 

 

Rosita laughed. “Oh yeah, over the last couple months split pea was all he wanted to eat. The General was very specific about how I made his soups.” She reached over the stove and pulled down a worn notebook, hand-written notes in spidery script crammed into the cover and scrawled everywhere. “Most of these, he could tell if I changed anything, but the split pea? I found that just a little extra cumin made this soup more tolerable...errr,  _ tasty _ .” 

 

Mr. Dorrance sat up abruptly, his knees striking the table in a way that caused Rosita to jolt back. “Cumin! Yes, exactly! That’s what’s been missing. Sales are flat…” he began to pace around the kitchen. Rosita was beginning to regret inviting this man into her house. 

 

“Mr. Dorrance, no offense intended, but I’m in the middle of packing up my husband’s worldly possessions and preparing to host a wake here. Did you...come here for a reason?”

 

“Oh dear, you must forgive me Mrs. Whitechapel. I became so distracted by the delicious soup. May I sit for just five more minutes of your time?” Rosita nodded, intrigued in spite of herself. 

 

“I’m sure your husband told you that he was one of the folks involved in the development of concentrated soups for Campbells?” 

 

“Uh, no…” Rosita said.

 

“Yeah! So, some of the original recipes have been corrupted, and while they’re still the same delicious soups you’ve grown to know and love from the Campbell’s company, they’re sadly not the same as they were the day Mr. Whitechapel came up with them.”

 

Rosita nodded dumbly, thinking of the times she’d made soups only to have The General yelling querulously from the dining room about the flavor not being right. Something nagged at her though. 

 

“My husband was a military man. A...Brigadier General actually.”

 

“Oh yes, some of the first concepts for canned products with a long shelf life were developed in cooperation with the United States Military. May I see that book?”

 

Rosita handed over the old cookbook, and Mr. Dorrance took it with reverence. He thumbed gingerly through the pages, the silence punctuated by the odd gasp or knowing hum. 

 

“The notes in the margins?” he asked, gesturing at some penciled-in writing. 

 

“Oh yeah, those are just a few changes I made.” Rosita smiled shyly. “I’ve researched the chemical reactions in food a bit and was curious how they would manifest in these configurations.” 

 

In this ensuing silence, Rosita began to feel embarrassed. Why did she feel the need to impress this odd man? “Anyhow,” she laughed, “just a simple housewife trying to make her husband’s favorite meals!” 

 

Mr. Dorrance nodded absently, still continuing the thumb through the book. When he reached the end he looked up at Rosita. “Do you have a formal education?”

 

“I graduated from High School, of course,” Rosita replied. 

 

“The changes you’ve made to these recipes, they’re genius. Our most talented food scientists have worked on our soup recipes for years and never managed to achieve what your recipes will do.”

 

“Well...thank you?” 

 

“Mrs. Whitechapel, I hope you don’t think me forward, but...would you consider a job with the Campbell’s Company? Perhaps a consultant role? I would hate to lose out on your obvious talent.” 

 

Dumbstruck, Rosita just stared at this gregarious soup loving miracle who had appeared in her life. Every bad feeling she’d harbored towards The General dissipated.  _ This must be a dream _ , she thought, pinching herself surreptitiously. 

 

“Listen, I’ve been very forward here and I apologize,” Mr. Dorrance said suddenly. “Of course you can’t make a decision like that at a time like this! Please, take all the time you need. In the meantime, I hope you will accept this gift that I was intending to give to your husband, in honor of his contributions to the success of Campbell’s.” Dorrance pulled a stiff card out from the inner pocket of his jacket. “This certificate gifts you with a one percent share in the Campbell’s company. Congratulations!” 

 

Rosita felt numb. She reached out to shake Mr. Dorrance’s proffered hand. 

 

“Thank you, sir,” she smiled. “They say when God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.” 

 

***

 

“I’m running out of clothing to wear to these things,” Waverly whispered to Wynonna, as they walked up the path to Rosita’s front door. Wynonna adjusted her dark sunglasses and looked at Alice, reaching over with a gloved hand to wipe a smudge off of her daughter’s cheek. 

 

“Well, all we need is Perry to kick it and we’ll have filled up our Bingo cards,” Wynonna muttered under her breath. 

 

“Wynonna!” Waverly said, but she laughed a little. “Gosh it feels good to laugh, even at something as wrong as  _ that _ ,” she said to Wynonna.  

 

“Red still giving you the cold shoulder?” Wynonna smirked knowingly at Waverly, who looked quickly away. 

 

“It’s not that, Wy, she needs time to grieve the loss of her husband. I...understand.” 

 

“Her husband ran off to live in a gay nudist colony.” 

 

Waverly smacked her sister’s arm. “You don’t know that.” 

 

“Well I do know that the annoying glow you’d been sporting is gone. And anyone who hurts my baby sister is subject to the wrath of Wynonna. And Grieving Wynonna can be unpredictable.” 

 

Waverly sighed. “If she’s here today, just leave her alone, Wynonna. Please.” 

 

They walked in the front door, the usual thick cigarette smoke swirling around them. Alice spotted the dogs and started pulling at Wynonna’s hand.

 

“Please, mommy,” she begged, “Please let me go see Uncle General’s doggies!” 

 

“Go for it, kiddo,” Wynonna sighed, letting go of her daughter’s hand and heading directly to the large oak bar which took up the entire length of the dining room wall. She poured herself a hefty drink and one for Waverly, and they leaned back for a moment, looking for Rosita. 

 

“How’s Alice managing?” Waverly asked tentatively. 

 

A tuxedo clad waiter passed by, a tray held delicately on his fingertips, and Wynonna grabbed his arm. “Finally, snacks,” she announced, grabbing two of the small bowls from the tray. The waiter shot her a haughty sneer and brushed off his coat, moving on through the crowd. 

 

“She misses her daddy,” Wynonna admitted. “Of course she didn’t know what a bastard he was. But he was gone so much...and she’s so young…” Wynonna coughed dug in her purse, pulling out a cigarette and busying herself with lighting it. Waverly took the hint and peered into her bowl.

 

“Is this...split pea soup?” Wynonna asked, her nose wrinkling. 

 

“It sure is!” crowed Rosita, sidling up to them through the crowd. “There’s also tomato, chicken noodle, and The General’s seasonal favorite: Fish.” 

 

“Fish?” Waverly asked.

 

“Isn’t that Nicole’s husband?” Chrissy asked, materializing out of nowhere. 

 

Waverly looked quickly around. “Nicole is here?”

 

“No, baby girl. Fish is her husband’s name, right?” Wynonna poured another drink, looking closely at Waverly.

 

Waverly sighed, her heart sinking. “Oh yeah. Fish.”

 

“I have so much  _ sopa de mierda _ left over, I’m serving it all up tonight,” Rosita whispered gleefully. 

 

“What’s all that stuff I saw in the kitchen?” Chrissy asked. “I dropped off a casserole in there.” 

 

Rosita had the grace to look guilty. “Well, yeah. People have been bringing by a lot of food. But girls, I’m starving! And I don’t want to waste the soup.” 

 

At that moment, Waverly spotted a flash of red hair coming through the front door. “Excuse me,” she said, hurrying quickly towards Nicole. She slipped up next to her just as Nicole was adding her coat to the pile by the door. Shifting awkwardly, Waverly cleared her throat. “Um, hi Nicole,” she said, with a weak smile and half wave. 

 

Waverly could swear that she saw pain in Nicole’s eyes when her beautiful neighbor, the woman she’d fallen so hard for...so fast, turned to looked at her. But Nicole just looked at her, blandly polite.

 

“Oh, hello Waverly. How have you been?” 

 

Waverly felt her heart straining in her chest, and tears began to well up in her eyes. “How have I been? I...I miss you Nicole. How can you ask how I’ve  _ been _ ?” She tried to keep her voice low, hating the needy way she sounded. 

 

“I’m sorry, Waverly,” Robot Nicole continued in her expressionless voice. “I’ve just been very busy dealing with some things.” 

 

Waverly looked at Nicole, shaking her head side to side in disbelief. How could she have been so stupid? How did she let this...person worm her way into her heart so quickly.  _ No _ , Waverly thought,  _ she can’t just hurt me and get away with it _ . Waverly steeled herself, leaning in to Nicole to whisper harshly. 

 

“I thought I really liked you, but obviously you’re not who I thought you were. If this is about Champ, I told you that was an accident, but it doesn’t matter. Or maybe you’re just the type to get a girl interested just to toy with her, like all those girls at the bar. Is that what it is? You know what, you’ve made up your mind  _ and so have I _ .” Waverly crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Nicole.

 

“Waverly, no...I,” Nicole began, her mouth pulling down in a frown, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I think it’s best that you just stay away from me. Please give Rosita my condolences.” 

 

Waverly felt the fissure in her heart become a chasm, as Nicole Haught picked up her coat and walked out the door. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Lucky ](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) and [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1111277465207373824) on Twitter for a good time. Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Things get a little...steamy this chapter. Enjoy.
> 
> Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

All of the bravado that Waverly had when she told Nicole off was slowly fading. She stared at the door like she was expecting Nicole to come back through and say she changed her mind. To gather her up in her arms despite everything and tell her it was going to be okay. But the longer she stared at the door the more the chasm in her heart grew.

She could feel the unshed tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, as she held onto that last shred of foolish hope Nicole would come back through that door.

“Waves,” Wynonna said gently, placing her hand on Waverly’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Waverly sniffled and quickly wiped away her tears. “Yeah, of course. I’m fine,” she said, straightening out her already impeccably pressed dress. “Just...taking a moment to remember The General.”

Wynonna squeezed Waverly’s shoulder and moved so she was standing in front of her. Blue eyes searched Waverly’s face and she forced a small smile that looked more like a twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“I’m fine. Really,” Waverly said. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at her black patent leather heels. 

_Aye, dios mio,”_ Rosita keened loudly. Wynonna and Waverly snapped their heads over to see that Rosita had collapsed onto the floor in front of what looked like a _very_ old picture of The General. It even looked like he still had all his teeth. It was an old timey photo, The General in his usual Confederate uniform, placed in an ornate, patinated tin frame with some rust and age around the edges. It sat on a table with flowers and candles around it, a bowl of split pea soup placed front and center. “ _Pulcherrima vir meus mortuus est!_ ”

Rosita had her head bent into her hands, openly weeping. Wynonna shifted uncomfortably and Chrissy knelt besides her. Waverly pushed her own troubles aside, at least for the moment, and went over to her best friend. She kneeled on the other side of Rosita and the woman tilted into Waverly’s arm with an over-exaggerated wail. Chrissy gave both of them a sympathetic look and stood up to give them space. 

Waverly circled her arms around Rosita, rocking her and rubbing soothing circles against her back. Between sobs, Rosita whispered, “Thanks, Waves. Nosy police officers, ten o’clock.”

The sinking in Waverly’s stomach felt like quicksand as she tried to subtly look out of the corner of her eye. Sure enough, Officer Gretchen was looking down suspiciously at the tray of soups that the waiter was holding out for him as if one of them had the answer for whatever mystery he was trying to work out in his head.

With a lick of her lips, she squeezed Rosita and reached into the neatly hidden pocket of her dress for her handkerchief. She pulled out the fabric and paused, staring at the soft cloth between her fingers. It was the bandana she had taken off Nicole’s head that day in the garage. She hadn’t thought much of it when she stuffed it in her pocket earlier. Pushing back her own emotions, Waverly used it to wipe some invisible tears from Rosita’s cheeks.

“What’s he doing here?” Rosita whispered.

“He’s been...poking around recently-”

“ _What?_ You couldn’t tell me this before I put sleeping pills in my husband’s soup?”

“ _What?_ ”

Rosita pulled away slightly and wailed again, hand coming up to grip the edge of the table that held The General’s picture. The light caught the beaded rosary wrapped around Rosita’s hand, light pink beads decorating it with silver accents separating the different sections. She put her forehead on the edge of the table and began to recite just loud enough for other people to hear.

_“Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia. El Seńor es contigo.”_

Waverly didn’t know the Hail Mary, her daddy would have never let them get caught anywhere near a church, let alone a Catholic Church. But she knew enough of it and enough Spanish to jump in tentatively, kneeling besides Rosita.

_”Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre, Jesús.”_

She looked up and caught the eyes of Officer Gretchen. The vague guilt and fear that had taken residence in her stomach since the last time he visited her still lingered, but there was no way she would ever let him know that. So she kept eye contact as she finished the prayer with more conviction than she felt.

_”Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén.”_

***

Chrissy sighed as she gazed out the tinted window of the car. The ride was silent even after Chrissy asked that they put just _some_ music on. Perry prefered the silence. He said he liked listening to the road noise. She didn’t know why he was so into looking out windows lately. It seemed like all he would do.

She glanced over at Perry who just continued to look attentively out the window. Chrissy sighed a little more dramatically, placing her gloved hand delicately under her chin so that the soft fabric of her silk gloves tickled her chin, like she’d seen Audrey Hepburn do in a movie once. As much as all these funerals were a real mood killer, at least it had given her a chance to wear her black gloves more than once a year.

“What is it, dear?” Perry asked, not even bothering to look away from the window. 

“Alice was cute today, wasn’t she?” Chrissy probed.

“She’s always cute, dear.”

Chrissy hummed. “We’d make cute babies too, you know.”

Perry just made some kind of noncommittal noise and Chrissy noticed how empty her lap felt without Pierre for the first time since they’d left for the funeral. She rubbed two fingers together, feeling how the silk of her gloves caught on itself. 

“I want a baby, Perry,” Chrissy said a little indignantly. Perry said nothing, eyes still darting around the world they passed as they drove. Her hands balled into fists and if they weren’t sitting she probably would have stomped her foot. “Can’t you at least look at me?”

Perry’s head dropped and he let out a long sigh before looking at Chrissy. He scooted over to her and pulled her hands into his lap. 

“Some day, dear. When it’s time,” he said with that kind, understanding smile that had always made her melt. But lately it just felt condescending. Chrissy slapped on her award winning smile, all white straight teeth, and squeezed Perry’s hands so hard he winced a little bit. 

“ _Dear_ , You’ve been saying that the entire time we’ve been married-“

“Sir, we’re here,” the driver said from his front seat. Perry wrenched his hands away from Chrissy’s and wiped his palms on his pants, straightening his jacket. 

“One moment, dear,” Perry leaned forward and placed a kiss on her cheek before ducking out of the car. Chrissy wiped her cheek and looked out at her surroundings. She hadn’t even noticed that they drove past their house and ended up on the edge of the city behind some sort of building. 

Perry had all but disappeared down an alley and Chrissy huffed. She leaned forward, the seatbelt cutting into her chest as she tapped the driver on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me, where are we?” she asked. 

The driver didn’t bother looking back. “Sorry, I can’t ma’am.”

“Why’s that?” Chrissy didn’t bother masking the annoyance in her voice. 

“Strict orders.”

Chrissy threw herself back in the seat and crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest. She huffed and looked back over at the alley Perry’d disappeared into just as he ducked back out of a door. He turned and shook someone’s hand with a grim look on his face. Chrissy pressed her face to the window and caught the glimpse of a blond man she swore she recognized from somewhere before he slipped back into the building and Perry headed back to the car. 

She sat back into the seat and waited for Perry to get in. Chrissy didn’t say anything and neither did Perry as the driver turned around and started back towards the house. 

“I want to get Pierre a new collar. Diamonds,” she blurted. 

“Whatever you want, dear,” Perry said with a distracted smile before going back to looking out the window. Chrissy just watched her husband and tried to chase away the sick feeling starting in her gut. 

***

Waverly looked around at the various baked goods and jello molds gracing the counters of her kitchen. One hand on the edge, one on her hip and tapping her fingers as she looked around. 

This was getting ridiculous. 

She’d spent the last couple of days trying to distract herself from the fact that Nicole seemed really determined to follow through with what she said. She hadn’t contacted Waverly and her curtains had remained mostly drawn so she couldn’t even get a glimpse of her. Not that she was...trying. That would be odd. 

She had seen her once in the morning. She saw a hint of red hair duck into the garage earlier in the day but that was it. 

Mostly Waverly was just trying to fill the gaps in her boredom in a way that didn’t remind her of Nicole. Of how right it felt when their lips slipped together or how strong and comforting her hands always were. Waverly shivered and carded her fingers through her own hair in frustration. 

Wynonna was spending the day with Alice and everyone else was busy. The whole day had been spent cooking in the kitchen, bare feet sliding across the linoleum as she went. There were a couple of times she would shamefully admit her eyes were on Nicole’s house when she thought she saw the rustling of a curtain. 

Now with the sun setting, Waverly breathed a small sigh of relief that she had somehow filled the time of another day. Maybe she should get a job. After all, that fifty-thousand dollars could really only go so far. She didn’t want to just waste away into nothing. 

Waverly began packing the food into her Pyrex containers. She figured she’d take some to Rosita and some to Wynonna in the morning. As she was placing a lid over the chocolate chip cookies, movement in front of Nicole’s house caught her eye. A sleek black Jaguar roadster pulled up and parked. 

A blonde woman in a tight fitting black dress got out of the car and Waverly’s blood chilled. It was the same woman she’d met at the bar. Eliza. With all her curves and blonde hair she looked like a movie star. The chasm that Waverly had tried to ignore only became more apparent as she watched the woman go up to Nicole’s door and knock. It was only a moment before the door was opened and she stepped inside. 

Waverly was sure she’d stopped breathing. She licked her lips and let the curtain fall back across the window, blocking her view. A thousand thoughts went through her head at once. Had Nicole already picked up another girl? Was it really over? After all of that-...

Waverly wrenched the curtain back open and was peeved to see that Nicole’s curtains were drawn and there was only the small hint of a light shining behind it. Maybe if she got...a little closer. Just to hear what was happening. No big deal. And not in a weird way. 

Just a friendly neighbor way. 

She slipped on some simple flat shoes and marched out the front door. As soon as she started walking down her driveway she realized she had made a mistake. There was no way to casually walk up to your neighbors door when your neighbor had been actively avoiding you and told you as much. There had to be _something_ she could do.

Waverly walked down to the corner of the block and back, and when she walked past Nicole’s she did her best not to look at her house. The last thing she needed was for Nicole to see her awkwardly pacing back and forth in front of her house. Instead she focused on the garden gnome Nicole had placed on her lawn shortly after she had moved in. 

Its pudgy body leaned on a rake, jovial face and pink cheeks smiling up towards the dark night sky. Waverly kind of hated it. 

The closer and closer she got the the gnome, the more unjustified anger she felt towards its small, porcelain body. As she was about to pass it, she gave it one quick and swift kick to the face. Pain bloomed in her toe and the gnome tipped over, hitting the edge of the sidewalk and shattering it into two pieces.

“ _Balls,_ ” Waverly hissed in pain and shock as she hopped on one foot, the other hand holding her injured toes. She looked down at the gnome, it’s not detached face smiling up at her.

She groaned to herself and let her other foot fall. What was she doing? Decapitating innocent lawn ornaments? She didn’t even know who she was anymore. Waverly sighed to herself when a spark of an idea came. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. Waverly licked her lips and carefully picked up the pieces of the gnome, cradling it in her arms as she walked up the pathway to Nicole’s door.

Pausing at the door to make sure she didn’t hear anything...scandalous, Waverly knocked twice. Her fist hovered over the wood of the door as her mind ran a million miles a minute and she wondered if two knocks was too formal. Too informal? Too urgent?

She panicked and added one more solid knock just as Nicole swung the door open just enough, so all Waverly could see was her body taking up the small space between the door and frame. It didn’t help that Nicole’s outfit of some tighter fitting pants and her usual men’s shirt unbuttoned...very far...was more distracting than she’d admit.

Waverly stared at her wide eyed, unsure whether she was really standing here in front of Nicole like this. Had she cracked? Did she really do something this ludicrous?

“Waverly,” Nicole breathed. It wasn’t a question. But it felt like the lightest hint that maybe Nicole had missed her too.

“Hi,” Waverly said, unsure smile just barely lifting her lips. Nicole’s eyes darted down to her arms and she suddenly remembered the broken creature in her arms. “Oh um...I accidently broke your gnome.”

She swallowed thickly and tried to subtly look over Nicole’s shoulder into the living room but couldn’t see anything. She looked back at Nicole and forced her “polite neighbor” smile she’d been practicing since puberty.

“Sorry. I wanted to offer to...fix him,” she continued, looking down at the beheaded garden ornament.

Nicole licked her lips and shifted a little, eyes looking around the street. “Now’s...not really the time, Waverly.”

Waverly’s heart sank but her smile remained in place. Perfectly practiced, perfectly executed.

“Oh, well I’ll just go then,” Waverly said. She got the hint. This was like the final nail in the coffin of their short lived...whatever it was. Waverly let it sink in that Nicole was deadly serious about not wanting anything to do with her anymore.

“Nonsense,” came another voice from behind Nicole. The redhead blushed and was forced aside until Waverly saw Eliza’s head pop up besides Nicole. “Come on in, sweet stuff.”

“Eliza-” Nicole bit under her breath through her teeth.

“What? I was about to leave anyways,” Eliza said, as she pushed her way in front of Nicole and pulled Waverly inside by her wrist. Waverly stumbled her way in and Nicole stuck her head out the door, looking up and down the street again before shutting the door.

“Um...thanks,” Waverly muttered as she looked around the room. She couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when she noticed that none of the pillows were out of place and the bedroom door seemed closed. She smiled again and looked back at Nicole who looked...well her face was unreadable.

Eliza blatantly looked Waverly over and sauntered up to her, face getting close to hers. The blonde pushed some of Waverly’s hair behind her ear with a smirk, and tapped on the gnome’s forehead.

“This little thing looks like they need some love,” Eliza said, even though she was looking at Waverly.

“I thought you were leaving,” Nicole said.

Eliza rolled her eyes and gave Waverly a wink before she turned back around. “Fine, Cassanova,” she said, patting Nicole lovingly on the cheek. She held up a novel between them and smiled toothily. “Thanks for the reading material.”

With that, Eliza didn’t bother looking back at them as she slipped out of the house, heel clicks getting softer as they walked down the sidewalk back towards her car.

Waverly just looked at Nicole for a moment, watching as she fidgeted nervously with the curtains, making sure they were closed, before she turned back around to look at her. Waverly swallowed thickly, suddenly filled with nerves as she looked at the only person she had ever felt truly comfortable with besides Wynonna. Now unease prickled against her skin and she doubted her every motivation for coming here.

She looked down at the gnome and thrust it unceremoniously towards Nicole as some sort of grotesque offering. 

“Sorry I broke your gnome,” she said. “It was an...accident.”

Nicole actually chuckled and the sound took some of the nervous energy off of Waverly’s skin. She licked her lips and Nicole stepped closer to her, gently taking the gnome pieces from Waverly’s arms. Just the proximity of Nicole was bringing up all the questions Waverly had been percolating on in her brain.

“Nothing that some glue can’t fix,” she said, setting the pieces on the table near her front door. “Thanks for bringing him over.”

“Why don’t you want me anymore?” Waverly blurted, a blush crawling up her neck and to her cheeks before she could stop it. She clenched her jaw and cursed the frustrated tears she could already feel building behind her eyes. “What did I do?”

Her voice cracked but she kept her face as neutral and angry as possible. She didn’t want Nicole to see how much she wanted her. How much she _missed_ her.

Nicole looked down between them and shook her head. “Waves, no. It’s not-...that’s not what-”

“Then what is it?” Waverly demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You really shouldn’t be here,” Nicole deflected. Her fingers found their way to her hair and she ran them through the locks, mussing them ever so slightly. “You need to leave, Waverly.”

Anger flared in Waverly and she took a step closer to Nicole. “I’m not leaving until you tell me why. Tell me what _happened_. Was it something I did? Something I said?”

“It’s not _you_ ,” Nicole insisted.

“Then _what_?” Waverly said, hands balling into fists and her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palm. 

“I’m dangerous!” Nicole hissed, brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m dangerous and you shouldn’t be around me.”

Waverly felt a confusing mix of relief and confusion. “Why? That makes no sense. _I’m_ the one who killed her husband. Supposedly.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“What if I did? Then would I be dangerous enough to see you again?” Waverly shrugged one shoulder, finally tired of the whole thing. “What’s so dangerous about you anyways? Is it just what you call yourself because you think it gets all the girls to fawn over you? A regular James Dean of the lesbian world.”

Waverly watched Nicole’s jaw flex, the tendon of her neck popping. She was somehow even more attractive when she was angry. Her strong jaw accentuated, eyebrows creased and neck somehow elongated. Waverly could see every twitch of her muscles, mouth growing drier each time.

“I think you know that’s not true, Waverly,” Nicole said, voice pained. “In the short time we were together, I hoped you’d have seen what you meant to me.”

“Then why?” Waverly said, chancing another step towards Nicole. She swore she could reach out and touch her if she wanted to.

“I can’t...say-”

“So it is because of Champ-”

“No! Well…” Nicole sighed and shut her eyes, “Sort of.”

Waverly saw the crack in the resolve, a little chink in the armor that she was determined to take down at all costs. She took another step forward, close enough to grab Nicole’s face and kiss it senseless. Instead she chewed on the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper.

“Nicole,” Waverly prompted gently. “Tell me.”

“Waves-”

Waverly’s hand moved up to cup Nicole’s cheek, but she hesitated with her hand just barely hovering over her skin. She looked into Nicole’s eyes and saw the uncertainty there, but she could see the longing and Waverly knew she wasn’t the only one feeling this loss. This pain.

She closed the distance, hand cupping Nicole’s cheek and the other woman leaned into it. Her eyes fluttered closed, eyelashes batting at her cheeks like butterflies. Waverly took another step forward and felt Nicole’s hand find the back of her neck, drawing their foreheads together. Waverly let her eyes close as they just breathed in the closeness of each other

It was like their breaths were re-synching, their bodies slowly drifting closer together until their clothes just barely touched, but nothing more.

“Tell me,” Waverly tried again, so quiet she wasn’t sure that Nicole could even hear her. “Please.”

Nicole’s hand on the back of her neck tightened for a moment, skin hot against her own. Waverly desperately wanted to lean up and press a kiss to her lips. To reassure her, and selfishly to feel her lips again. Instead she rubbed her thumb over her cheekbone and Nicole let out a deep breath.

“They’re watching me,” Nicole whispered. “And I’m-...they’re going to take you down with me.”

“Who?” Waverly asked, lifting her head so that their noses bumped ever so slightly.

Nicole took another shaky breath. “About a year ago now...when I lived on...the other side of the city...there was this club I used to always go to. It was called The Monocle and it was like the bar I took you too. It was for women.” Nicole licked her lips, grip tightening a little on the back of Waverly’s neck. She chanced a small kiss to the end of Nicole’s nose to reassure her and was rewarded with a sigh of relief. “I was there the night the police raided. They took me and Shae and Eliza and a bunch of the other girls into custody but...it was awful. The way they treated us. They went in and just started throwing girls around, pushing them against walls to arrest them...the screaming. I-”

Waverly closed the space between them, her heart hurting with each beat as Nicole struggled to get through her story.

“Were you okay?” Waverly asked.

“I was fine. Fish bailed me out that night and paid them to get rid of my record,” Nicole said, her free hand playing with the belt around Waverly’s waist. “But Officer Gretchen, he was there. And he remembers me.”

Waverly felt her blood run cold and she shook her head. “I don’t-”

“He thinks I told you to kill Champ,” Nicole said finally. “And he told me that if I didn’t want you to go to jail for murder I’d have to stay away from you.”

“What if I don’t care,” Waverly said. “I just want to be with you. I mean-...if you even-”

Nicole silenced her with a kiss and Waverly gasped in shock. It took a moment for Waverly to realize what was happening but as soon as she did she melted into her. Her arms looped around Nicole’s neck and she lifted herself up on her tiptoes in a vain attempt at getting even closer. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and held her close, hands splayed against Waverly’s back as their kisses grew desperate.

The first touch of Nicole’s tongue made Waverly burn, her legs suddenly feeling like jelly as Nicole’s mouth moved along her jaw. Waverly shivered when the cold air of the room hit the wet spots left behind by Nicole’s mouth. 

“Waverly,” Nicole said, dragging her lips across Waverly’s throat before pulling back to look at her. “This...us...it won’t be easy.”

“I don’t care.”

“People will never look at you the same,” Nicole warned. “We could never be like this in public. You could never have children. We couldn’t-”

Waverly put her finger over Nicole’s lips to stop her rambling. She smiled softly at her, watching Nicole kiss her fingertip and let her tongue touch it ever so slightly. Her cheeks were flushed, pupils dark and body warm. Waverly wanted more.

“As long as I’m with you...that’s all that matters,” Waverly shook her head, fingers pushing Nicole’s long red hair over her ears and revelling in how soft Nicole was everywhere. “I don’t care what happens. As long as I’m with you.”

She watched as emotions streaked across Nicole’s face. Surprise, regret, relief and something else Waverly couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“Oh, Waverly,” Nicole said, a slow smile spreading on her face so that her dimples deepened. “As long as you want me, I’ll be by your side.”

Waverly didn’t know where the sobs came from. Maybe it was the sheer relief of having Nicole back in her arms saying that she wanted her back. Or maybe it was because the last few weeks had been _exhausting_. An emotional rollercoaster from highs to lows and they were happening so quickly Waverly didn’t know where to turn. Despite all of this, Nicole had felt like her anchor. Her rock to hold on to during the storm. Until she was gone and Waverly was drowning. Now she was back and Waverly just wanted to remember she was there. That she was real and...that she was hers.

Nicole gently kissed away the tears that rolled down Waverly’s cheeks, pausing to kiss her softly every few moments. 

“I know, baby,” Nicole whispered as she placed a hot kiss on her neck just below her ear. Waverly’s eyes fluttered shut and she turned her head to kiss her again. “What’s going on in that big beautiful brain of yours?”

Waverly smiled with a small sniffle, eyelashes heavy with the remnants of her tears as her forehead found Nicole’s again. Nicole’s words sunk into her skin and warmed her blood. Made her feel...seen. Champ hated when she flexed her intelligence and he sure as hell never asked her what she was feeling. Ever. It made a fire burn deep in Waverly’s core and she couldn’t get close enough to Nicole.

“I shouldn’t say,” Waverly said with a blush. 

“Waves, please...say what you’re thinking,” Nicole asked, kissing her forehead. It was like she couldn’t go more than a moment without kissing Waverly and it just made her want Nicole even more. “I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking…” Waverly licked her lips, voice dropping to a husky whisper as her lips found Nicole’s again. “I’m thinking how wonderful and confusing it is...to want you to love me gently. And also to push me up against this wall and kiss me like you need me to believe I’m yours.”

Nicole moaned as their lips slid together again, hands tightening around Waverly’s waist. Waverly started walking them back towards the couch, at least as best she could while remaining as close to Nicole as possible.

“Waves-”

“Take me to bed,” Waverly blurted, no longer ashamed of her raw desire. 

Nicole pulled back a little so that she could look in her eyes, brown eyes searching. “Are you sure?”

Waverly just nodded. “Please.”

It was the only proof that Nicole needed it seemed. Nicole gathered Waverly in her arms and lifted her up. Waverly chuckled and pressed her face into Nicole’s neck as her legs wrapped around her waist. She couldn’t help how her core pressed against Nicole’s stomach but she definitely could have resisted rutting subtly up against her, but she did it anyways. Just for a moments relief from the pounding between her legs. Her hands smoothed along Nicole’s shoulders, revelling in how firm and strong they felt as she carried her towards the bedroom. Waverly kissed Nicole again and chuckled when she stumbled and Waverly’s back bumped against the door frame of the hall.

“Sorry,” Nicole mumbled, blushing only slightly, but she didn’t make to move, just kept Waverly pressed up against the wood frame.

“It’s okay,” Waverly said between kisses. She was completely charmed by the woman, already frustrated with the number of clothes both of them were wearing as Nicole pressed into her. Waverly’s legs tightened around Nicole’s waist, hands moving from her neck to the front of her shirt as she began to pluck the buttons of it until it hung loose around her shoulders.

Waverly didn’t care if the made it to the bedroom anymore, and from the way Nicole’s hands smoothed up her calves and squeezed her thighs, it seemed like Nicole didn’t either. Waverly groaned and pushed Nicole’s shirt over her shoulders until it hung loose, caught on her forearms as they held Waverly up against the frame. Nicole’s fingers found their way to the edge of Waverly’s panties, fingering along the the fabric as their kisses grew more desperate. 

Waverly was sure she was about to self combust and pressed her hips against Nicole the best she could with the way she was pressed against the door frame. One of Nicole’s hands squeezed Waverly’s ass, holding her up, while the other found her breast over the fabric of her dress. Waverly moaned at the feeling of Nicole’s palm holding her, squeezing and massaging her breast. 

Nicole pulled Waverly’s bottom lip between her teeth and Waverly cupped Nicole’s breast over her bra. She felt the nipple stiffen in her palm, even over the fabric of her bra, and rolled it between her fingers. 

Waverly’s arousal was pounding between her legs, her underwear sticking to her uncomfortably, and feeling far too tight. Nicole’s hand cupped Waverly through her underwear and she bucked against, her fingers finding their way back to Nicole’s hair and pulling.

“Take me,” Waverly begged, lips swollen and body desperate. “Please. I can’t wait any longer.”

Nicole moaned and wasted no time pushing Waverly’s underwear to the side so that her fingers found slick heat. Waverly gasped, her walls clenching around nothing as she waited for Nicole to _do_ something. Instead, her fingers stilled and Waverly’s wetness dripped over them. She sighed, doing what she could to grind into Nicole’s hand but the awkward positioning against the wall restricted her movements. 

She couldn’t help the whine building up in her throat as Nicole’s fingers took their time exploring her, probing and feeling every inch except for where Waverly needed her most. Finally Nicole’s fingers bumped against her clit and Waverly’s head fell to Nicole’s shoulder as a moment of relief flooded her. 

Waverly considered their positioning, how open she was for Nicole and how she could feel herself dripping down her ass and probably to the floor. She had never been this desperate, this turned on and it was as liberating as the first moment she kissed Nicole. It was like some invisible shackles suddenly broke away and Waverly felt her heart fly. 

She kissed Nicole even more desperately, tongue searching for hers as she moved her hips as best she could in her position against the wood, hoping to encourage Nicole’s fingers lower. She felt the rumble of a chuckle in Nicole’s chest as her lips broke away and she started kissing down the column of Waverly’s throat. 

“Is this what you want, baby?” Nicole teased as she pushed in to a single knuckle. Waverly gasped and moved her hips, searching. 

“I think you know I do,” Waverly whispered, turning her head so that her lips rested on the shell of Nicole’s ear. 

With no preamble, Nicole slipped two fingers into her deeply. Waverly gasped, hips tilting towards Nicole as she let the pleasure bleed through her veins. She licked the shell of Nicole’s ear, teeth pulling on the lobe as Nicole thrust into her. 

Lights popped in front of her eyes and her legs tightened around Nicole’s waist. She was squeezing her so tightly that she was sure Nicole didn’t have to hold her up if she suddenly dropped the hand under her ass. 

Nicole almost completely pulled out of her and pushed back in, air leaving her lungs as she scrambled for purchase on Nicole’s shoulders. She could practically feel Nicole smirking against her neck, and turned her head to kiss it off her face. 

Nicole’s pace was relentless, barely giving Waverly a chance to breathe before she was plunged back under the waters of pleasure again. Nicole’s thumb started to circle her clit and Waverly moaned louder than she’d thought possible, her hand flying up and grabbing the wooden door frame as she felt a pressure building in her pelvis. 

Her fingers dug into the wood, nails scraping at the plaster around the frame so that it came out in flecks, sticking under her nails.

“God,” Waverly moaned as her head tipped back and hit the frame painfully. The warmth started moving up her spine and stomach, the pressure almost becoming too much to handle as she held desperately onto Nicole. “Nicky...I-”

“I know, baby,” Nicole groaned, capturing Waverly’s lips again just as black spots erupted in front of her eyes and she felt her orgasm rip through her. She had never felt anything like it before, oddly enough. Sure she’d had orgasms before (thanks to her hand) but there was something about her lips being on Nicole’s, their bodies pressed against each other, and obviously Nicole was doing something magical because-

“ _Fuck,_ ” Waverly said, voice high and entire body thrumming with pleasure. Nicole’s movements slowed and her ragged breathing began to even out as a second orgasm moved through her in waves. 

Her body finally began to relax, just the occasional pulse of pleasure that rippled though her and made her walls tighten around Nicole’s fingers. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, fingers beginning to ache from how hard she was gripping the door frame. Her limbs felt like jelly and she loosened her grip on Nicole’s back, soothing her fingers over the small indents she felt in the flesh there. 

Her arms looped around Nicole’s neck and she felt her placing soft kisses along her neck. Waverly hummed and turned her head to capture Nicole’s lips in a slow kiss. She felt Nicole’s hand leave her and groaned at the feeling as she adjusted her grip on Waverly. 

“You okay?” Nicole whispered, nuzzling their noses together and smiling at Waverly.

She grinned slowly, eyes heavy and sated. “More than okay. That was amazing.”

Nicole’s cocky grin was back but Waverly couldn’t deny that she deserved to sport it. 

“Can you stand?” Nicole asked. Waverly tightened her grip on Nicole’s neck for a moment but nodded. “Good.” Nicole slowly lost her grip on Waverly and brought her back down to the ground. Her legs felt like jelly, but she leaned against the doorframe for support. Nicole stayed close, kissing Waverly deeply as she slowly pulled up the skirt of her dress. Waverly shivered at the way that Nicole’s next words whispered across her swollen lips. “Because I want to taste you.”

Waverly whimpered, wide eyed, as she watched Nicole sink to her knees in front of her. Waverly took her gathered dress in one hand, holding it near her hip, and the other found Nicole’s hair as she began to place soft kisses against her hips. The mirror in the living room was angled in just such a way that Waverly could see them on the edge of it. Her hair was mussed, pupils blown and the evidence of love marks doting her neck and what parts of her chest she could see. Nicole was on her knees, slowly pulling her underwear down her legs, and it was the sexiest thing Waverly had ever seen in her young life. 

The first touch of Nicole’s tongue to Waverly’s core felt like fire and her head dropped against the doorframe again as she let herself give in to pleasure. 

***

Their bodies were warm and sated, muscles pleasantly sore. Nicole took one last drag of her cigarette before blindly reaching towards the coffee table and putting it out in the ashtray. The butt was crushed over the painting of a pinup girl on the metal dish, ash covering her chest and suddenly making her modest again. 

Waverly snuggled closer into her side, face in her ribs, with Nicole was half sitting propped against some sofa pillows. A throw blanket pooled around her waist. Waverly placed soft, open-mouthed kisses along her ribs with her hand moving from one of Nicole’s hips to the other and feeling the sharp bones on either side. 

Nicole settled back into the pillow and Waverly readjusted herself so that her head was on Nicole’s shoulder. 

“That was nice,” Waverly said shyly.

Nicole gave her a crooked smile. “Just nice? Guess I’m out of practice.”

Waverly rolled her eyes and swung her leg over Nicole's hips. “Cocky.”

Nicole just hummed and kissed the crown of Waverly’s head. She chuckled and shook her head. “I can’t believe you broke my gnome.”

Waverly blushed and turned to hide her face in Nicole's chest as she groaned. “Don’t ever tell anyone I committed gnomicide.”

“All to sleep with me,” Nicole smirked.

“Not just to sleep with you,” Waverly muttered. “Because I...missed you. And I saw Eliza go in and I got…”

Waverly trailed off but Nicole seemed to have no problem finishing the sentence for her.

“Jealous.”

“Maybe a little,” Waverly admitted. “I wanted you all to myself.”

“Well you got me,” Nicole said. She put her finger under Waverly’s chin and tipped it up kiss her again. “You had me from the first time I set my eyes on you.”

Waverly’s body warmed again and she managed to snuggle even closer to Nicole. Suddenly she giggled and nipped the side of Nicole’s breast. 

“Ow!”

“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” Waverly giggled, her hand pushing lower across Nicole’s groin, the side of her hand brushing against coarse curls. 

Nicole let out a long sigh and gathered Waverly more into her arms. Waverly happily snuggled into the softness of Nicole’s breasts, thighs still slick when she remembered how exhilarating it was to feel Nicole come undone under her mouth. She slipped her thigh between Nicole’s and pushed her onto her back. 

“Oh,” Nicole purred as Waverly straddled her hips. Waverly pressed herself against Nicole’s stomach, painting it with her slick. Nicole’s hands gripped her hips and ground up into Waverly. Her hips bucked and she felt the pleasure ripple through her again. 

_Bang bang bang_

Both of their heads jerked towards the door, Waverly’s blood running cold. Her grip tightened on Nicole’s ribs before she looked back down at Nicole. 

“Who-?”

_Bang bang bang_

“Open up!” Came a gruff voice from the other side of the door. 

“What the fuck,” Nicole mumbled to herself. She gently guided Waverly off of her and stood cautiously. Another sharp rap on the door kept Waverly from fully appreciating Nicole’s naked form in front of her. 

Nicole reached for her pants and slipped them on, so Waverly followed suit. Waverly’s stomach churned with nerves, hands shaking as she reached for her dress. 

“Baby,” Nicole whispered, holding both of Waverly’s hands in her own and forcing her to look into brown eyes. “It’s okay. Go to the bedroom and get dressed just in case, but I’ll see who it is. Okay?”

Waverly licked her lips. “What if-?”

Nicole silenced her with a kiss and Waverly could still taste herself on her lips. 

“It’ll be fine. Trust me,” Nicole reassured her. Waverly nodded and picked up her clothes and ducked into the bedroom just as another knock came at the door. 

Waverly closed the bedroom door softly just as she heard Nicole open the door. She kept herself close to the door as she managed to put her dress back on, listening at the crack of the door. 

“Hello?” Nicole said. “I’m sorry, it’s awful late-“

“Ma’am, are you Nicole Fish?”

Waverly cringed at the name and she could hear the irritation in Nicole’s voice. 

“Technically. Yes.”

“Do you happen to know where Mrs. Hardy is?”

Waverly’s heart stopped, fingers paused midway through doing up her dress. 

“I’m not sure how that’s a question for me,” Nicole said, voice not even wavering. “Now if you’ll forgive me, it’s really late and I’d like to start getting ready for bed-“

“Mrs. Fish, were going to have to place you under arrest.”

“Excuse me?”

Waverly finished buttoning up her dress and burst out of the bedroom. She didn’t know why they were looking for her but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let Nicole get in trouble for something if it was her they were looking for. She got to the living room and stopped in her tracks. 

Nicole’s eyes were wide, her face hard and not betraying any emotion as she looked at Waverly.

“Officer,” Waverly said as she ran a hand through her hair, still tousled from their tryst on the floor. “I heard you were looking for me.”

Officer Gretchen looked at her, an obnoxious smirk on her face that told Waverly everything she needed to know. He thought he’d caught them and that it was all over. He didn’t move his hands from where he was handcuffing Nicole, her hands pulled behind her back. 

“Well, Mrs. Hardy, I thought I might find you here,” he said with a sick grin. He pulled a little on Nicole’s wrists, using an unnecessary amount of force as he handcuffed her. “Mrs. Fish, can you tell me why you were entertaining Mrs. Hardy so late? Doesn’t seem like much two ladies could be getting up to at this time of night.”

His eyes pointedly looked at the destroyed couch, cushions on the floor and blanket thrown haphazardly over the back of it. Nicole’s cigarette was still smoking in the ashtray and Waverly tried not to react.

“I was upset,” Waverly said cooly, her heart betraying her and beating a thousand beats a minute. “With all the recent...tragedy in the neighborhood. I heard a noise outside of my bedroom window and didn’t know where else to go. My husband always used to handle things like that.”

Gretchen looked unconvinced, his smirk still in place and hands still restaining Nicole behind her back. “And she decided to comfort you in the bedroom.”

“Officer Gretchen,” Waverly said, a harsh tone to her voice despite her throat closing up. “I would like to know what this is about. Because so far all I’m seeing is you barging into a private home and arresting an innocent woman based on nothing but speculation. And I’m not even sure what the speculation is at this point.”

The officer had the decency to drop his smile as he cleared his throat. “I’m taking in Mrs. Fish on the suspicion of illicit activity.”

“What sort of illicit activity?”

“Waverly,” Nicole said evenly, voice slow and commanding as brown eyes bore into her. “I’ll be fine. Just go home and I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

Waverly felt her panic rising like bile in her throat. She couldn’t help but feel like Nicole was being ripped away from her just as she had her. And that it was her fault. 

“I don’t want to,” Waverly said, voice wavering. It frustrated her and tears sprang to her eyes. “I don’t trust him.”

“Waverly, you’ll be fine. Call Chrissy and Wynonna, okay? I’m sure the noise was just a racoon,” Nicole said pointedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“I’m going with you.”

“No disrespect, Mrs. Hardy, but you can’t do that,” Officer Gretchen said, his oily grin sliding back onto his face. “If you want to get your _friend_ you’ll have to wait until the morning.”

The frustrated tears just pushed harder at the back of Waverly’s eyes but she set her jaw and crossed her arms in front of her. “Fine.”

“Mrs. Hardy, may I assist you back to your home?” the officer asked as he turned and pushed Nicole towards her front door with her handcuffed arms. 

“I think I can manage to walk back to my own home, thank you,” she said with a tense smile, eyes hard. 

Officer Grethen pushed Nicole towards the cop car, and Waverly followed helplessly behind, shutting Nicole’s door behind her as she went. She felt like she was going to be sick when she watched the officer assist Nicole into the back of his car, self satisfied smile on his face. Nicole didn’t even look at Waverly, just leaned back with her hands awkwardly behind her, eyes unreadable.

“Mrs. Hardy,” Officer Gretchen said as he tipped his hat to her.

“Actually, it’s Ms. Earp,” she bit out. Waverly watched as he faltered for a moment, smile suddenly turning down into a frown. She felt a small thrill of victory until it came crashing to the ground, as Officer Gretchen got into his patrol car and drove away, Nicole in the backseat.

Waverly watched until his car disappeared around a corner and hurried back to her house. Her lungs felt tight, air struggling to find its way to them as the tears she’d been holding onto couldn’t be held back any longer. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, her body convulsing with sobs as she made her way into her house and to the phone. Shaky fingers turned the rotary phone, putting in Wynonna’s number as she tried to control her crying. 

“Hello?” came Wynonna’s drowsy voice. “Whoever this is better have a damn good reason-”

“Wynonna,” Waverly choked out. “I just-...they took Nicole. I don’t-”

“Who did, baby girl?” Wynonna asked, voice suddenly clear. 

“T-the police,” Waverly said, sniffling loudly. “I just can’t-...I don’t-”

“I’ll be right there,” Wynonna said before hanging up. Waverly listened to the dial tone on the phone for a moment before sinking to the floor. She curled into herself, sobs wracking her body painfully. 

She wasn’t sure how long she was on the floor before she heard the front door click open. 

“Mama, why’s Aunt Waverly crying?” she heard Alice’s small, sleepy voice say.

“Ssh, I’m gonna put you to sleep in Aunt Waverly’s bed, okay?” Wynonna soothed softly. “In the morning we’ll all eat pancakes and hang out. Won’t that be fun?”

Their voices got further away and a few moments later Waverly felt Wynonna pulling her head into her lap. She smoothed the hair away from Waverly’s face. Wynonna hushed her gently as her shoulders shook.

“It’s okay, Waves,” Wynonna said, leaning down to place a kiss on the side of Waverly’s head. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“What if it’s not?” Waverly said pathetically. Her face felt hot and puffy from her crying, and she balled her hands into fists as she tried lessen her crying. “Wynonna, I...I love her.”

Wynonna’s hands stilled in her hair for a moment but then continued the same as before. “We’ll get her out of there, Waves,” she whispered. “I’ll be sure of it. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Lucky ](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) and [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1113815176057249792) on Twitter for a good time. Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by the marvelous [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). Waverly decides to try her hand at some writing and throws a coming out barbecue.
> 
> Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

Chrissy Nedley was not a stupid woman. She had her flaws, certainly, but currently she was thinking the worst injustice she’d ever done herself was embracing the complacency that came with her comfortable marriage to Perry. 

 

Right now, sitting in her father’s office in the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department, she observed that the fluorescent overhead lighting made Sheriff Randy Nedley look wan and tired. Or maybe it was the news he was delivering to her.  

 

“Chrissy, honey, I know I asked you to come in, but I don’t want you to be worried. I just want to know that you’re careful,” her father said slowly, his voice so soft that it was competing with the buzz of the overhead lights. Chrissy leaned forward a little bit to hear her father, his eyes searching her face as if to determine whether she understood what he was saying. 

 

Chrissy sighed deeply.  “I just wish you could tell me what’s going on, Daddy. What am I supposed to be careful with?” She couldn’t help the slight whine that slipped out, but it did always made her father give in to her so…

 

“I just think maybe Perry’s gotten himself mixed up in something that could be dangerous for him.” Sheriff Nedley grumbled to himself before continuing in a lower voice. “I never trusted that whole salesman schtick he sold you. What kind of a  _ salesman _ can buy a diamond dog collar?” 

 

Chrissy leaned even more forward, her gloved hands resting primly on her knees. She was starting to feel a little afraid about what her father wasn’t telling her, but at twenty-one years old she wasn’t even sure anymore whether she was anything other than a willing passenger in her husband’s life. 

 

She thought about Perry, sweet sweet Perry, who in high school would carry her books for her from class to class, trailing behind her like a puppy dog in heat. His letterman jacket wrapped her shoulders, and his class ring hung around her neck on a glittering chain. He had been the perfect boyfriend and all signs pointed to him being the perfect husband. But the more he came home from sales trips looking downtrodden and beaten, the more often his older brother would come visit. His older brother who always wore his hat slightly tipped to the side and smiled at Chrissy in a way that just felt  _ oily _ . Soon, Perry’s sales trips became fewer, but he seemed a lot happier. He even brought her home the tiny little fluff ball she would soon name Pierre, after he told her he wanted to hold off on having kids for a while.

 

Chrissy blinked back the memories and regrets, and focused back on her father.

 

“Just...daddy...is my husband a bad man?” Chrissy whispered haltingly. 

 

Sheriff Nedley frowned, sitting in silence so long that Chrissy began to tune in to the muted sounds of the bullpen outside his office door. His mustache twitched the way it always did when he was thinking, considering. Chrissy remembered his red rimmed eyes and his mustache, much smaller at the time, furiously twitching when he had to break the news about her mother.

 

She could tell he was hiding something. Perhaps not  _ hiding _ as much as just...withholding. Suddenly all the recent times her father had looked tired but wouldn’t explain why, his little hints about putting more officers out on late night surveillance...his somehow gruffer attitude towards Perry lately...it all made sense.

 

Chrissy would never know for sure all the hours and manpower that had uncovered Perry’s illicit activities. She would never know because Randy Nedley always made damn sure his precious little girl didn’t get so much as a stain on her pristine, camel overcoat. But Chrissy was not a stupid woman. She was never stupid. And she knew there was more going on here than her father would ever let her know. 

 

Sheriff Nedley grunted, making a decision. “Maybe, sweetheart, maybe. Just, if you notice anything weird...be careful.” 

 

***

 

Waverly hung up the phone a little too hard, the kitchen echoing with the resultant ring. She clenched and unclenched her fists before shoving both hands roughly through her hair. 

 

“Chrissy’s still not answering,” Waverly told Wynonna, who was seated at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette. Waverly glanced out the kitchen window. “It’s been hours, Wy. Nicole’s been gone almost all night! What am I supposed to do?” 

 

Wynonna took a deep drag of her cigarette, then crushed it out in the ashtray. She held her breath for a moment before blowing smoke out her nostrils, watching Waverly fret and pace her way around the kitchen. Her eyes felt hot and gritty from a night awake with her sister, supporting her through her grief and anger. If she was being honest with herself, Wynonna had no idea that Waverly was capable of feeling so deeply. Wynonna promised herself that once this was all resolved, and she was going to make damn sure it was resolved...somehow, she would really talk to Waverly about everything that had transpired since Champ’s death. 

 

Wynonna stood and walked over to the Kelvinator, pulling out a pitcher of juice. She poured two large glasses and thrust one at Waverly, effectively halting her pacing. “Waves,” she said softly, “just have some juice. I’m sure this is all just a big mistake and Nicole will be home any minute now.” Wynonna hesitated for a moment before continuing. “You’re...uh...sure Nicole didn’t do anything wrong?” 

 

The wide eyed look Waverly gave Wynonna filled her with regret for even asking the question. She shook her head, stroking a hand down Waverly’s arm. “Just...drink your juice, baby girl. You need to keep your energy up.” 

 

***

 

Nicole shivered. The holding cell was cold and dingy, four yellowish cinder block walls and a metal bench with a large ring bisecting it, presumably to secure a detainee. Officer Gretchen had taken her from her home without even giving her the option to bring a coat, and she’d thrown on her light blouse over sweat damp skin. 

 

Thinking of this made Nicole’s stomach drop. Waverly was bound to be worried about her, but also this was going to be the end of them, Nicole was certain. Nicole growled in frustration and strode back the bars at the front of the cell. Gripping them between her hands she leaned her face between them, trying to see down the short hallway, but she pulled back hastily when Gretchen’s bland, shiny face suddenly appeared in front of her. He twirled his wooden baton aimlessly at the end of the leather strap.

 

“Oh, Mrs. Fish,” he sneered, “I was just coming to give you another chance to come clean.”

 

“This is bullshit, Gretchen,” Nicole snarled, yanking fruitlessly at the bars. “Let me out of here. I haven’t even gotten a phone call. Am I under arrest? I know my rights; you can’t keep me here for no reason.” 

 

Gretchen paused for a moment as another officer walked by, tossing barely a glance at Nicole. He waited for the door to shut at the end of the hall then banged his baton against the metal, causing Nicole to jolt back in surprise. The officer laughed. 

 

“I’d love to call your  _ husband _ , Mrs. Fish, but I haven’t any idea where to look for him. He’s just...disappeared. Seems to happen a lot when you’re around. First Mr. Hardy has his unfortunate encounter with the car--”

 

“I told you I had nothing to do with that!” Nicole interrupted.

 

“And then Mr. Holliday chokes on a coconut flake---”

 

“You’re kidding!” Nicole held her hands up, flustered.

 

“ _ And then _ , Mr. Whitechapel, an American Hero just up and croaks!” Gretchen crossed his arms over his chest with a knowing frown. 

 

Nicole could have brought up the fact that The General was probably hundreds of years old and only held together by cobwebs like some kind of grotesque ventriloquist dummy, but she knew men like Gretchen would never listen to reason or logic. She had met enough of them in her life to know exactly how they worked, how they thought. They were never receptive to reasonable conversation. 

 

Gretchen clearly wanted to see Nicole punished for some personal vendetta he had against her. Nicole knew if she didn’t play along in some way, he would keep her locked up and she’d never see Waverly again. She swallowed thickly, grip tightening on the cold metal bars in her grip. 

 

Desperate times called for desperate measures. And men like Gretchen only folded when there was a possibility that he might be forced to face the consequences of his actions. Nicole had seen plenty of girls pull this stunt the couple of times she was either locked up, or had to pick someone up under the guise of being their cousin.

 

Nicole glared at Gretchen, then mussed up her hair and quickly unbuttoned her shirt with shaking fingers. She pulled it off of her shoulder messily, skin hot with the shame of performing what she felt like was the last attempt at seeing Waverly again.

 

She spoke warningly in a low voice. “Let me out of here or I’ll scream. I swear I-...I’ll yell that you pulled me up against the bars and groped me.”

 

Gretchen stepped back from Nicole, swallowing, his eyes a little wide. “Just tell me what happened to your husband. Where’s the body? Is it about the money?”

 

“You know you sound insane right?” Nicole answered, but her curiosity was peaked. She sighed as if in in resignation and moved back to the bench, sitting herself neatly at the edge and crossing her knees. She pulled her shirt back onto her shoulder and tried to subtly pull it closed. “What _money_? What do you _want_ _from me_ , Gretchen?”

 

“Well, now we might be getting somewhere,” Gretchen smiled. “If your husband doesn’t turn up soon I have enough dirt to put you and your little lover away for a long time. What’s it worth to you for that to not happen?”

 

Nicole’s head snapped around to look at the officer. “Are you trying to bribe me?” 

 

“I’m pretty sure I know the game,” Gretchen said. “I know your husband  _ Samuel Ambrose Fish _ . He has one of the largest known collections of male erotic photography in the country. Now, that can mean two things. I know your husband has money because that market is a cash economy, so you can either access that, or you can get slapped with an arrest for possession of pornography. Do you already have a buyer for that smut, or do you and Mrs. Hardy just look at those dirty pictures together?”

 

“You disgust me,” Nicole hissed.

 

Gretchen pulled a ring of keys from his belt and unlocked the metal door, swinging it open, and Nicole got up, walking carefully towards him. He moved his body into the opening and blocked her exit, leaning close with a harsh whisper. 

 

“This is my city. I’m not gonna have queers and deviants filthing it up. I want ten thousand dollars in two weeks, or you and Mrs. Hardy are going to prison for distribution of pornography,  _ and _ conspiracy to commit murder. Maybe even insurance fraud. I’m sure she can find plenty of bull dykes to bend her over in the slammer.” 

 

Gretchen moved back to allow Nicole to slip by him, then escorted her out through the bullpen and into the lobby of the station. Nicole took a deep breath as she hastily did up her shirt. It took all of her fortitude to not punch Gretchen in his smooth, blond throat. But the exit to the station was in sight, a shining beacon at the end of a long tunnel. And beyond that, Waverly.

 

“Oh and by the way-”

 

Nicole stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Gretchen over her shoulder.

 

“-I’m sure you know better than to try to move anything out of the house. You know where to find me, Mrs. Fish,” the officer grinned cheerfully, turning on his heel and leaving Nicole speechless and trembling with rage. 

 

***

 

Wynonna had managed to convince Waverly to lie down on the couch. She’d pulled a light blanket over her sister and rubbed her back soothingly until Waverly fell asleep, then crawled into Waverly’s bed beside Alice Michelle and dozed off herself. 

 

The sound of a car door slamming outside had Waverly practically rolling onto the living room floor in her haste to look outside. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and peeked out the window, nearly crying with happiness when she saw Nicole leaning in the window of a taxicab, then standing up and looking towards Waverly’s house as the car drove off. 

 

Waverly ran barefoot to her front door and pulled it open, darting down the walk and across the dew-cold lawn, directly into Nicole’s arms. Nicole sighed in relief as she clasped Waverly to her, and Waverly tilted her head back to look at Nicole’s face. Dark smudges under her eyes betrayed her tiredness, and her clothing was wrinkled and soiled looking. Nicole’s attention darted everywhere, paranoia visible in the reddened corners of her eyes.

 

“Nicole, baby, look at me,” Waverly pleaded gently. She reached a finger up to pull Nicole’s jaw around, waiting until deep brown eyes met her own. Waverly’s heart ached when she saw tears starting to well up. 

 

“Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?” Waverly pulled back to hold Nicole by her upper arms, looking her up and down. “I’m so glad you’re back...I was so worried.” 

 

“Can we go inside?” Nicole asked in a small, quiet voice, and Waverly felt a strong feeling of rage towards the officer who’d broken her strong, confident Nicole. 

 

“Of course,” Waverly said. She took Nicole’s hand and led her to the door. “I, um, took your keys when I left earlier...since he didn’t let you…”

 

“It’s fine, Waves,” Nicole said with a wan smile. “I kind of like the idea of you having a key to my place anyhow. At least I had the cash for cab fare.” Waverly smiled back at her, relieved to see a glimpse of the Nicole she recognized. 

 

Waverly let Nicole into the house, with quick, furtive glances. She didn’t like the vacant, almost shell-shocked look she saw in Nicole’s eyes. They needed to talk about what happened, but first, she needed to help Nicole feel safe again. After locking the front door she moved gracefully over to Nicole, who stood where Waverly had left her, in the center of the living room. 

 

Waverly encircled Nicole’s waist with her arms and rested her head on Nicole’s chest, standing quietly, just being there for Nicole, until she spoke. 

 

“I’m exhausted, and...I feel filthy.” Nicole choked back a sob, and Waverly gave her a squeeze before leaning back to look at her. 

 

“Let me draw you a bath, okay? You can relax and get cleaned up, and I’ll make us a couple drinks?” 

 

Nicole nodded, swiping almost angrily at her eyes, but interlaced her fingers with Waverly and let her to the bathroom. 

 

Waverly had always admired Nicole’s bathroom with the cheery pink tiles, bisected by a slender black line, and the way it all contrasted with Nicole’s wallpaper, a riot of red geometric designs, but tonight the effect felt garish and hard on her eyes. Remembering the candles they’d scattered around the living room the night before, Waverly started the water flowing in the tub, adding some bubble bath, then patted Nicole gently with a murmured, “Wait here.” 

 

She walked swiftly through the bedroom into the living room, retrieved the candles and matches, and the crystal decanter of whiskey with two glasses. She returned to the bathroom where she set up the candles and turned off the overhead lighting. 

 

“Can I help you undress?” Waverly asked, and Nicole nodded. 

 

This was a different kind of intimacy, Waverly reflected, slowly unbuttoning and unclasping, removing Nicole’s clothing layer by layer. She would dispose of this outfit, Waverly decided; no need for Nicole to suffer the trauma of remembering that night. She slid Nicole’s pants down her legs, bracing her as she removed them, then watching her feet disappear into the fluffy pink bathmat. Finally, she tested the water with her hand. 

 

“It’s ready, darling,” Waverly said, with a gentle hand around Nicole’s elbow, guiding her to the edge of the tub so that she could fold her long body within it. As Nicole settled into the water with a relieved sigh, Waverly poured two generous glasses of whiskey. She handed one to Nicole and sat down on the toilet seat lid, drinking deeply from her own glass, enjoying the way the liquor almost immediately warmed through her blood and loosened her muscles. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Waverly asked gently. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready.” 

 

Nicole sipped her whisky, rolling the liquid in her mouth and swallowing. She looked at Waverly. 

 

“Gretchen’s trying to blackmail me. He knows that I have money...or Fish does, and he wants ten thousand dollars.”

 

Waverly stood up abruptly, slamming her glass down on the bathroom vanity. “Ten thousand dollars?!” she yelped angrily. “Who does he think he is? Why, I ought to--” She strode towards the door, causing Nicole to sit up suddenly as water sloshed over the edge of the tub and onto the floor. 

 

“Waverly, wait!” Nicole said. “What are you doing?”

 

Waverly paused, collecting herself. The last thing Nicole needed right now was for her to act overly emotional or volatile. She took several deep breaths then turned back to Nicole. 

 

“I’m sorry, I just thought we should talk to Chrissy. Or her father. He’s the Sheriff, after all. If he finds out Gretchen is a dirty cop, he can do something about it.” 

 

Nicole looked at Waverly, almost sympathetically. “Come here, baby,” she asked, reaching a hand out of the tub for Waverly. Waverly knelt down, but bounced back up again when her knees met sopping wet floor. She leaned over Nicole and kissed her softly on the mouth, pulling back a little to look into her eyes. 

 

“I know the tub’s not very big but...can I get in there with you? I just really want to be close to you.”

 

Nicole smiled for the first time since she’d come home. “I think I would like that a lot,” she admitted, leaning forward to run a little more hot water. 

 

Waverly stripped off her clothes, enjoying the feeling of Nicole’s eyes on her body. Nicole slid back in the tub and Waverly slipped into the water, settling herself between Nicole’s legs and leaning into her chest. Nicole wrapped her arms around Waverly and just held her, quiet words tickling against Waverly’s neck. 

 

“Gretchen knows that Fish has an expensive collection of art photography. To be honest, Waverly, most of it is male erotic photography. I’m not sure how he found out. And he was there for my arrest in the city, and he knows all about Fish bailing me out and making my...record...disappear. He has a lot of information, Waves, and it’s not going to look good if he puts it out there.”

 

Waverly shook her head, twisting to try to look at Nicole. “But Nicole, don’t you think if we tell Sheriff Nedley--?”

 

Nicole shook her head. “He’s threatening to tell everyone that I am in possession of pornography. Sheriff Nedley might be Chrissy’s dad, but if he sees these photos...Gretchen thinks I’ve somehow brainwashed you to do my bidding. If I move the stuff out of the house, he’ll know. I’ll go to prison and...he’ll ruin your reputation too. There’s nothing to do but to pay him, Waves.” Nicole sighed deeply. Waverly felt Nicole’s body slump behind her. “Can we just talk about this later? Right now I just want to hold you, be with you.”

 

Waverly leaned down to press a kiss to Nicole’s forearm. “Of course, Nic. Of course.” 

 

***

 

After their bath, Waverly had taken Nicole tenderly to bed, first rubbing sweet smelling lotion into her tense muscles until she stretched like a cat beneath her, then laying her full length against Nicole’s back, one hand wrapping her hip as her other cupped a breast, kissing at Nicole’s neck and shoulders as her fingers drew the softest exhalations of relief from Nicole. Nicole had fallen asleep almost immediately but Waverly found herself restless, and soon after she went to Nicole’s library and found herself scribbling away until she was tired enough for sleep overtake her. 

 

Now, Waverly awoke to the feeling of Nicole’s lips on her neck, dragging softly down her throat with the barest hint of teeth behind them. She hummed with pleasure, tipping her head back but keeping her eyes closed, feeling Nicole smile against her skin. A warm hand splayed across her abdomen and Waverly felt a heat building in her stomach.

 

“Someone’s feeling better,” she murmured, cracking an eye to take in Nicole’s tousled morning hair spilling over bare shoulders, as Nicole kissed and nibbled her way down to Waverly’s chest. The sun shone bright behind Nicole’s curtains and Waverly knew it must be afternoon already. 

  
Nicole nodded, even as her mouth found the curve of Waverly’s breast, and she traced the tip of her nose around the nipple. Her breath tickled and Waverly giggled, suddenly wide awake. 

 

“Mmm, Nicole, wait.” 

 

Nicole rested her lips around Waverly’s tightening nipple. “What am I waiting for, baby?” she mumbled, the vibration of her words sending pleasant little shocks down Waverly’s spine. 

 

Waverly moaned at the feeling, but slipped a hand between her breast and Nicole’s mouth, tapping the back of her fingers against Nicole’s lips. She reached for the nightstand and grabbed a sheet of paper, pulling it close to her face. Nicole rested her cheek on Waverly’s stomach and looked up at her, and Waverly couldn’t deny that the sight of her shoulder muscles flexing as her arms folded under her chin, was mighty distracting.

 

“I wrote something last night that I really want you to hear,” Waverly said, shyly. “Promise not to laugh?” 

 

“I would never,” Nicole smiled. 

 

“So you know how I love your library, and since I have my own typewriter I’ve been thinking a lot about how I could write books like that too. And maybe I could make a little money of my own, for us, you know. I mean...I don’t have a lot of experience but--” Waverly trailed off, a light blush dusting her cheeks. 

 

Nicole sat up slightly, a slow grin stretching across her face. “Oh Waverly, I think it’s a wonderful idea. Can I hear what you wrote?” 

 

“Okay.” Waverly opened her mouth as if to start reading, then broke down in giggles. “Oh my god, I can’t. It’s too embarrassing.”

 

Nicole pushed up so her elbows bracketed Waverly’s hips, smiling encouragingly. “Waverly, please, read to me.” 

 

Waverly took a deep breath, and with a final nervous glance at Nicole, began to read. 

 

_ “Maria’s arms burned. She’d been tightening bolts for hours, it seemed like, the handle of the wrench somehow slippery even through her thick, leather gloves. By the time the whistle blew, it was all she could do to store her tools neatly away, grab her lunch pail, and start the short walk home. Still, she was grateful for the opportunities provided by the Lockheed facility, even at the heavy cost of the war.” _

 

Nicole sat up further. “She’s building airplanes?”

 

Waverly smothered her face in the paper. “Ugh. You hate it.” 

 

“No, Waves,” insisted Nicole, “I’m just...flattered, is all.” 

 

“Well I need to work on the in-between, but let me get to the good stuff, shall I?” Waverly smirked, with a sudden burst of confidence. 

 

_ “Carol couldn’t deny that the sight of Maria in her work coveralls, rolled down to her waist and tied just so, did things to her. Every day at the sound of the factory whistle, Carol mixed up a drink for Maria, or cracked open a beer. She’d prepare a snack for her roomate and have it all laid out, both eyes looking out the window, waiting for a glimpse of the tired, older woman.” _

 

Waverly drew in a short breath as Nicole began stroking her cheek against Waverly’s bare stomach, circling her navel briefly with the tip of her tongue. 

 

“Go on,” Nicole purred, “Tell me what Carol wants to do to Maria.” 

 

Waverly shivered slightly and attempted to focus on her scribbled handwriting. The story had come easily to her last night, two woman thrown together through the convenience of shared housing, falling into a relationship. Maria was hard working and a bit rough around the edges, with calloused hands that could still whisper over Carol’s skin like silk. And as for Carol--well, Waverly saw a bit of herself in there. Heart on her sleeve, longing for someone to care for, someone who really saw her and encouraged her to grow. 

 

“Mmmm,” Waverly sighed, as Nicole’s hand began stroking up and down her legs, around her calves, and over her knees, and Nicole’s lips traveled lower to kiss Waverly’s hip bones. 

 

“ _ Carol,” Maria sighed, as if she couldn’t believe that at last, at last this beautiful woman was all for her. It felt like so many nights of pining, listening to Carol’s soft snuffles in her sleep, watching her elegant fingers set meals in front of Maria. She’d wanted Carol for so long and now--” _

 

“Jesus, Nicole,” Waverly moaned, spasming against Nicole’s clever tongue and crumpling the paper in her fist.

 

Nicole looked up at her from between her thighs, a devilish gleam in her rich brown eyes. “Don’t stop reading, baby.”

 

Waverly nodded, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue.

 

“ _ Carol shook like a leaf when Maria’s soft tongue stroked her own, and she clutched Maria’s strong biceps in a painful grip that was certain to leave visible bruises under the rolls of her white undershirt sleeves the next day. Maria walked her backwards until they fell together onto the bed. There Maria’s talented hand slipped between their bodies, sliding into the front of Carol’s panties, and then those calloused fingers were parting her and oh!--” _

 

“OH! Oh, yes, Nicole!” Nicole rested an arm across Waverly’s bucking hips, gently pushing Waverly’s legs wider to afford herself better access to Waverly’s increasingly wet sex. She probed deeply with her tongue, sliding it firmly upwards to tease at Waverly’s clit. 

 

“God oh god oh god,” Waverly prayed, clawing at Nicole’s head with her free hand. “You know what, we’ll come back to this later,” she groaned, tossing her papers to the floor and wrapping both hands around Nicole’s head, shoving her fingers in to grip silky red hair. 

 

Nicole paused for a moment and chuckled lightly against Waverly’s thigh. “I can’t help myself. I’ve never fucked you in the bed before.”

 

Waverly’s eyes rolled to the back of her head at the sound of the expletive rolling off of Nicole’s tongue, and she nearly died when Nicole slipped two fingers inside her, teasing around her clit with thumb and tongue, then thrusting hard and fast until Waverly’s fingers flexed painfully against her scalp. Nicole sucked Waverly’s clit into her mouth, feeling happiness bloom in her chest when Waverly screamed out her name. 

 

At that moment, just the two of them, Gretchen was the farthest thing from either of their minds. 

 

***

 

Waverly couldn’t even find the copy of her book for book club. Were they even still reading it? Things were just changing so quickly around her; did she need to make a special dish for Rosita anymore? Waverly felt a bit off-kilter. 

 

She scoured her Better Homes and Gardens magazine for something new to make, drawing up short on an advertisement for 7-Up. Annie Oakley stood boldly in a bright blue cowboy outfit, pistol slung low at her hip. In one hand, the redheaded sharpshooter held a skewer of meats and vegetables, in the other a refreshing soft drink mixer. “Have an Annie Oakley Barbeque!” the magazine proclaimed. “Top it off with a Ginger Upper!” 

 

Something about the thought of Waverly’s favorite redhead in a barbeque apron had her in the car on the way to the butcher’s before she even thought to ask Nicole if she knew how to use Champ’s big Weber Kettle Grill. 

 

Waverly seasoned chunks of steak and an assortment of vegetables in her kitchen, then picked up the phone and dialed the number she already knew by heart. Nicole answered almost immediately. 

 

“So I was wondering,” Waverly began, twirling the phone cord around her finger, “if you know how to operate a barbeque grill?”

 

Nicole laughed. “A barbeque grill. Yes ma’am, I do. I assume you have charcoal briquets?” 

 

Waverly frowned. “I hate to say this, but Champ always took care of that. I was happy to assume the magic just...happened...out there. In retrospect, it makes me feel pretty stupid.”

 

“Nuh uh, Waverly, you don’t get to do that. You have your whole life to learn how to do everything. By the end of tonight I will have debunked the mystery of grilling for you. I have charcoal, I’ll bring it over and get the grill started a bit early, okay?” 

 

Waverly smiled into her empty kitchen. “Thank you, baby.” 

 

Things looked brighter already. 

 

*** 

 

Waverly was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the non-existent dirt from her kitchen floor and enjoying the lemony scent, when the telephone rang. She sighed, annoyed, but dried a hand on a rag, and stood up to answer. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello Waverly, it’s Chrissy.” 

 

Waverly glanced quickly at the clock. She still had several hours before everyone would be over for book club, and she thought she detected a certain stressed tone in Chrissy’s voice. Of course these day, everyone was on edge, so maybe she was just projecting. 

 

“Oh hey, Chrissy,” Waverly greeted, “you’re not cancelling on book club, right?” 

 

Waverly could hear something buzzing in the background, and pressed the phone against her ear, trying to imagine what was happening on the other end. She could hear Chrissy murmur something to someone before returning to the call. 

 

“No! Of course not, Waves, never. I was just wondering if maybe I could come over a little early? There’s something I just need to talk to my best friend about.”

 

The buzzing sound got louder, and Waverly’s curiosity got the better of her. 

 

“What’s that sound?” she asked. 

 

Chrissy laughed. “Pierre’s groomer is here. I’m getting him clipped in the newest style. It’s called a cupcake cut.” Her voice morphed into the tone she reserved especially for Pierre, and Waverly cringed, involuntarily squeezing out her sponge all over the floor. 

 

“Mommy’s baby is going to look just like a delicious wittle cupcake isn’t he...isn’t heeee?”  Chrissy keened through the line.

 

“Chrissy--Chris?” Waverly tried, “I’m in the middle of cleaning up, but you are absolutely welcome to come over early. How about five? OH! And I’m doing something different. A cook-out!”

 

“A cook-out? How modern.” Chrissy paused for a moment. “You know what? That sounds great, Waves! Pierre and I will be there with bells on. I’ll make a fruit salad.” 

 

***

 

Waverly dressed in a cream colored dress with a speckled pattern of boldly outlined bright red horseshoes. For a change of pace, she pulled on ankle socks and comfortable saddle shoes, admiring her casual look in the mirror. 

 

Not long after, the doorbell announced an arrival, and Waverly opened the door to a pensive looking Chrissy, Pierre tucked under her arm. Remembering their phone call, Waverly looked at Pierre, noting that his ears were now round like two tennis balls and the fur on the top of his head was cut into a point. If anything, Pierre looked...embarrassed. Chrissy held a large canvas bag in the other hand.

 

Waverly smiled politely. “Pierre looks adorable,” she told her friend, pulling Chrissy in for a warm hug. Do come in!” 

 

Chrissy pulled the door shut behind her and put Pierre down on the floor. “Gosh, Waverly, your house smells so good right now.” Chrissy sniffed happily. “Like lemons and vanilla.” 

 

The two friends moved to the couch. Waverly had already set out a pitcher of some drinks and light hors d’oeuvres, which Chrissy ignored. Waverly rested her hands on Chrissy’s knees, searching her friend’s face. 

 

“What is it, Chrissy?” 

 

Chrissy drew in a deep breath. She bit her lip briefly as if reconsidering what she was about to say, then nodded firmly. 

 

“It feels like all of my adult life I’ve just been little Chrissy, and then Mrs. Crofte. Supportive friend, loving wife, doting daughter. No one’s ever taken the time to ask me how I really feel about things, or to even imagine that I’m smart enough to know what’s going on around me. I’m just dumb ol’ Chrissy.” She shook her head, curls bouncing.

 

Waverly frowned. “Chrissy, no--” 

 

Chrissy placed her hand over Waverly’s. “Let me finish, Waves. It’s okay. It’s just that...you’re my best friend. And no one ever tells me anything because they think I’m dumb, even when I can tell something is up. Even you, Waverly. And that hurts. Something is wrong!” 

 

Chrissy sniffled and Waverly felt guilt settle in her chest. It was true. In school, she and Chrissy had been thick as thieves, sharing secrets and spending all of their time together. Dating the two most popular boys in school meant that they spent most every Friday or Saturday night together, drinking cherry Cokes and trying to tie the cherry stems in knots with their tongues, just watching the boys tussle around. Chrissy’d had a wicked sense of humor. They’d been each others Maid of Honor at their weddings. Waverly knew that Chrissy had always been a deep and loyal friend, but she realized that she’d started discounting Chrissy as her relationship with Wynonna had improved, and Chrissy had deep-dived into her role of wife. Waverly had turned her into a caricature in her mind, and that was unfair. 

 

“You’re right, Chrissy,” Waverly said slowly, “and I am so, so sorry.” She toyed at the hem of her dress, eyes downcast. 

 

Chrissy gently lifted Waverly’s chin to look at her. “Can we start with you telling me what’s bothering you--and what’s going on with Nicole?”

 

Waverly’s mouth felt suddenly dry, her throat thick. This wasn’t boy trouble or a stubborn stain she couldn’t get out of the sofa fabric. Somehow, this was even different from Waverly’s husband dying tragically in the driveway of their home! How would Chrissy react if Waverly told her she was...a...gay? 

 

Waverly ducked her head, then looked sideways at Chrissy through the loose curtain of her hair. She licked her lips nervously, but saw only warm affection in Chrissy’s eyes. 

 

Waverly had made a choice the night before. She was in this with Nicole...for Nicole, whatever this was. It felt like taking a leap, and Waverly was ready. The obvious next step was admitting this to her best friend since forever. 

 

“Chrissy,” Waverly started, then pressed her lips together, shaking her head.

 

Chrissy nodded encouragingly, “I’m listening, Waves. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” 

 

“I’m in love with Nicole,” Waverly blurted, her hands clenched into fists. 

 

Chrissy’s eyes widened, as she sat thoughtfully for a moment, her hand limp under Waverly’s. 

 

“Chrissy,” Waverly pleaded, “say something.” 

 

“Of course you are,” Chrissy said, abruptly. “How I didn’t see it right away…” she looked thoughtfully at Waverly. “You’re glowing, the house smells amazing--”

 

“You don’t think it’s improper? You’re not...disgusted with me?” She looked hastily around the spotless room. “Wait, didn’t my house always smell amazing?” 

 

Chrissy turned her hand to interlace her fingers with Waverly’s. “Waverly, you’ve always been there for me, since we were children. Remember when I got that terrible sunburn and everyone called me ‘Crispy Chrissy’? And when I got the curse in the lunchroom and you saved me by spilling your Sloppy Joe all over my lap so I could go home? And when my mother died--”

 

Chrissy leaned in to hug Waverly. “I’m learning something, Waves, sometimes life surprises us with how it turns out.”

 

Waverly didn’t catch the melancholy sound in Chrissy’s voice. The relief of being able to tell someone about her problem was frankly overwhelming. 

 

“The thing is, Chrissy, there’s more. I tried and tried to call you yesterday. Your father is the Sheriff, so you must know something about his officers?” 

 

“I know a few of them,” Chrissy nodded, pulling back. 

 

Waverly sat up, anger straightening her spine. “There’s this officer, Gretchen. He’s got this vendetta against Nicole. He’s…blackmailing her for ten thousand dollars.”

 

“What?” Chrissy mirrored Waverly’s posture. “How is this possible? What could he possibly have to blackmail her for?” 

 

Waverly sighed deeply. Telling Chrissy that she was in love with Nicole was one thing. Telling her the entire, shocking story was a whole other animal. Waverly considered the potential repercussions. It couldn’t get much worse than it was, she decided, and if anything maybe it could get better. 

 

“So the thing is...Nicole was arrested a while back. At a club for women.” She swallowed hard. “Where women go to...be with other women. Dancing and so on!” she added hastily. “There was a bust, and Officer Gretchen was there. Nicole’s husband bailed her out and made sure that she didn’t have a record.”

 

“Oh my gosh, Waves!” Chrissy exclaimed. “She looks so normal!”

 

Waverly plowed on. “You know how Nicole’s husband is a salesman for Kodak Corporation? Well he’s very into photography as well, and somehow Officer Gretchen found out that he has a large collection of...umm...maleeroticphotography,” she blurted. 

 

“How fascinating,” Chrissy breathed. “I have literally been living on a cloud of denial.” 

 

“Yeah, but here’s the thing. Yesterday, Officer Gretchen came to Nicole’s house and arrested her. He kept her almost all night, interrogating her. This  _ Officer _ says that if Nicole doesn’t pay him he’s got enough evidence to prove that she coerced me into killing Champ  _ and  _ he’ll arrest the both of us for possession of pornography.”

 

Chrissy looked curious, then slightly guilty. “I don’t understand why it’s so hard to believe that Champ Hardy could get himself run over by a car. Obviously Officer Gretchen never watched him play football.” She looked guiltily at Waverly. “Oh gosh, honey, sorry.”

 

Waverly waved her off, “It’s fine, Chrissy, honestly, I’m over it.”

 

“Okay but this is serious,” Chrissy said. “We need to focus on how to deal with Gretchen. I’m afraid with what you’re saying, the only way might be to pay him the money. If word gets out about this, the villagers are going to come with torches and pitchforks. Does Nicole have that much money?”

 

“We haven’t really gotten to talk it through. I have to say, Chrissy, I just feel like an enormous weight has been lifted, being able to talk to you about this. I’m  so sorry that I’ve left you out of so much.” 

 

“Well I have something of my own I need to tell you. Daddy called me to the police station yesterday to tell me that Perry might be mixed up in something bad. He warned me to be careful, but I have no idea what is going on.” Chrissy threw her hands up in exasperation. 

 

Waverly thought about Perry, his impeccable suits and the fat wad of cash he always carried. She thought about the diamond collars he allowed Chrissy to buy for Pierre, and their fancy chauffered car. 

 

“Chrissy, how did we let ourselves be so ignorant?” Waverly asked, rhetorically. “We just believed everything our husbands told us, did what we were expected to do. My husband was a boorish swine. Wynonna’s husband was a cheating bastard. May they rest in peace!” she added hastily. “And Nicole’s husband is off enjoying his homosexuality, yet he demanded that Nicole play the role of doting housewife. And now Perry…”

 

“Yes, shady Perry, and frankly, I’m sick of it!” Chrissy exclaimed. “Waverly let me think about this problem of yours before Nicole pays that man. Maybe I can come up with a better way around this.” 

 

“I think,” Waverly said, “it’s a fine idea.” She smiled at her friend.

 

A knock came at the door, and Chrissy slapped her hands on her knees. “I feel good about this Waverly. Together I think we can accomplish anything.” 

 

Waverly strode to the door, opening it to reveal Nicole, a bag of charcoal briquets in one hand, an apron folded over her arm, and a bag of corn on the cob in the other.  

 

Nicole leaned in, a smile dimpling her cheek. “Hey, ba--” She pulled back abruptly. “Oh hello, Chrissy,” she said, reddening. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She looked down at the sharp yapping noises coming from the floor. “Pierre.” 

 

Chrissy stood and walked over. “It’s okay, Nicole, Waverly told me everything.” She picked up her canvas bag from near the door. “I’m just going to go into the kitchen so you ladies can canoodle in private.”

 

Nicole looked quickly between Waverly and Chrissy. 

 

Waverly nodded encouragingly. “It’s true, c’mon in, hot stuff. That grill isn’t gonna heat itself up.” 

 

Waverly couldn’t help watching Nicole’s ass as she walked through the living room into the kitchen, chatting politely with Chrissy. She’d pretty much decided that Nicole in dungarees was one of her favorite sights, and today was no exception. Nicole had paired the trousers with a short sleeved plaid blouse with a cute Peter Pan collar, tied up and knotted at her waist so a sliver of skin showed. 

 

In the kitchen, Chrissy reached into her canvas tote, pulling out a bowl and an assortment of fruit.  

 

“Somehow, fruit salad seems really appropriate all of a sudden!” Chrissy laughed. 

 

Waverly and Nicole stared at her, and Chrissy blushed. 

 

“Um, too soon?”

 

Nicole snickered and Waverly smiled warmly at her friend. 

 

“Welcome back, Chrissy.” She turned to Nicole. “The grill is in the garage, let’s go pull it out?”

 

In the garage, Waverly pressed Nicole back into the wall and stood on tip-toes, pulling Nicole’s face down to kiss her deeply. 

 

“I really, really like those pants on you,” she breathed into Nicole’s mouth. 

 

Nicole smirked and shook out her apron. “Kiss the Cook” was embroidered across the front in bold red script. “Hold on, I haven’t even put on my apron yet, baby,” she said. 

 

Waverly patted her on the cheek. “You’re such a cliche, but it’s really cute.” She kissed Nicole again, slowly, until Nicole pulled back. 

 

“As much as I’m enjoying this, it’s gonna take the charcoal about a half hour to get hot.”

 

Waverly pouted. “I’m hot already.” She toyed with the ends of Nicole’s hair. 

 

“What’s gonna be really hot is teaching you how to use this barbeque grill.” Nicole smiled at Waverly, lacing their fingers and walking to the grill. She whistled softly in admiration.  “Weber Custom Kettle. Nice choice.” Nicole looked around the garage until she found what she was looking for, and held it up to Waverly. “Chimney starter,” she announced, grabbing the grill handle and wheeling it into Waverly’s yard. 

 

Once in the yard, Nicole showed Waverly how to pile coals into the chimney starter and light them. “Easy as pie,” she exclaimed, tossing the match into the grill with a flourish that made Waverly swoon just the tiniest bit.  

 

In no time the grill was smoking and Nicole sat in an outdoor chair with her corn and a paper bag to shuck it into. Waverly leaned in the doorway with a bottle of beer, watching as Nicole sat with her knees wide and the bag between her feet, slowly sliding her thumbs down the cobs, parting the corn silk and revealing the glistening kernels within. The tendons in the back of Nicole’s hands flexed and--

 

“Thirsty, baby girl?”

 

Waverly nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Wynonna’s voice, her head whipping around to catch the amused look coloring her sister’s face. 

 

“Jesus Wynonna, wear a bell.” 

 

Wynonna laughed. “I  _ rang _ the bell, as people do, and also knocked. And luckily Chrissy was here to let me in. Because you are obviously very busy bird watching. Hi, Nicole!”

 

Nicole waved a corn cob at Wynonna. “Hi, Wynonna.” 

 

Wynonna leaned in close to Waverly. “Might I add that your girlfriend is looking very handsome indeed today. I love the apron.” 

 

Waverly blushed bright red. “Everything’s nearly ready,” she announced, clearing her throat, as Nicole lifted the lid of the grill and placed the corn on it. “Let’s go inside and wait for Rosita?”

 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Wynonna said, “I brought Kate. Technically she’s an accessory to our husband-murdering ways so she fits right in.”

 

“Wynonna!” Waverly exclaimed.

 

“Kidding. But also, she’s great.” Wynonna shrugged. 

 

They walked inside where they found Kate and Chrissy in the kitchen, Alice Michelle propped up on the counter as Kate applied make-up to her face. “This one is perfect for your coloring,” Kate told the little girl, holding up the pale pink lip gloss for her to admire. 

 

“Auntie Waverly,” Alice Michelle yelled, “Ms. Kate is making me look like a movie star!”

 

Waverly just smiled at her niece as the doorbell rang. 

 

“Oh good, that must be Rosita,” Waverly said, walking through the living room to open the door to find her friend on the porch in a tiny, skin-tight, black sleeveless dress. “Rosita,” Waverly exclaimed, looking her up and down, “wow!” 

 

Rosita brushed by her on the way inside, “I’m in mourning, girl, you know.” She called over her shoulder, “I brought a little experiment of mine: whiskey.” 

 

“Better than soup,” Waverly muttered. “Drinks are in the kitchen!”  Waverly found Wynonna checking out her Better Homes and Gardens recipes. 

 

“Baby girl, please tell me we are not having ham and banana hollandaise because even Rosita won’t eat that.” Wynonna thumbed to the next page and a wide smile spread across her face as she held up the magazine and called across the chatter. “Ah ha! I found your cookout motivation, Waverly. Annie Oakley, eh? Someone’s got a ginger fetish.” She loudly read the ad in her best announcer voice, “Top it off with a  _ Ginger Upper _ !” 

 

Wynonna smirked and Waverly scowled at her. “Don’t even, Wynonna,” she warned, but it was too late.

 

“I know someone who’d like a Ginger Up-her--”

 

Conversation screeched to a halt as Nicole walked into the kitchen with a tray full of hot shish-kebab skewers, and all eyes fixed on her. Except Waverly’s, which were narrowed threateningly at Wynonna. 

 

“The meat is hot?” Nicole said, her eyes flicking nervously between Waverly, Wynonna, and the other women.

 

Chrissy smiled reassuringly over Wynonna’s shoulder at Waverly, even giving her a thumbs up. Waverly rolled her eyes. 

 

“Am I missing something here?” Rosita asked, eyes narrowed. 

 

Waverly took a deep breath. It felt like she was doing a lot of that these days. She looked at Nicole, slowly resting her palm on Nicole’s forearm.  “Nicole is...my girlfriend,” she announced, the air around her seeming to vibrate in tandem with her nerves. Nicole stood stock still with the tray of kebabs in her hand, and everyone appeared frozen in place. 

 

Wynonna stared challengingly at Chrissy, daring her to say something...anything about the “impropriety” of it all. But Chrissy just smiled happily back as she grabbed the pitcher and poured herself another Ginger Upper. “What?” she asked Wynonna. “I’m a modern woman!” 

 

Rosita took the tray of kebabs from Nicole, placing them on the kitchen counter. She looked Nicole over appraisingly, then nodded at Waverly. “Nicely done, Waves,” she smiled, helping herself to a plate and piling it high with food. Noticing everyone staring, Rosita shrugged, waving her skewer around. “I’m still recovering. Anyhow, Wynonna, you’re the only one here teasing poor Waves.”

 

Alice Michelle’s voice broke through the awkwardness of the moment, with the innocence only a child could have. “Does that mean I can touch your hair, Ms. Nicole? Because it looks like my Raggedy Ann doll hair and I really wanna feel it.” Waverly laughed and moved to hug her niece, winking at Nicole, delight and relief coursing through her.

 

Kate leaned against the counter, a tiny plate of Waverly’s deviled egg hors d’oeuvres in hand. She casually ate the olive off the top of an egg, then chuckled. “I always wondered about you folks hanging out together and eating these weird foods. This is way more interesting than I ever imagined.” 

 

Rosita tipped her glass in Kate’s direction. “Amen, sister.” 

 

***

 

Stomachs full, the women lounged around Waverly’s living room, passing the bottle of whiskey. Alice Michelle played dolls in the dining room, applying make-up to their faces and chattering to herself. 

 

“I’m so glad we’ve given up this pretense of reading a book at book-club,” Wynonna groaned happily, throwing her feet up over the arm of the chair she was sitting in and sipping deeply from her glass. “Rosita, this whiskey is exceptional by the way.” She tipped her glass towards Rosita who shrugged and smiled. 

 

Chrissy placed her mostly empty dinner plate on the floor in front of Pierre. Catching a shocked look from Waverly, she laughed. “What? I thought we were giving up pretenses? You girls were all so cute letting me get away with pretending you didn’t see Pierre licking my plate.” 

 

“Does anyone here still have a husband to talk about?” Kate asked, “Or are we all embracing alternative lifestyles now?”  

 

Wynonna barked out a laugh, raising her glass to Kate in a toast.

 

Chrissy’s expression darkened, and she looked at Waverly, who nodded ever so slightly. 

 

“Perry.” Chrissy said simply. 

 

Wynonna sat up so quickly she sloshed her drink on her lap. “Ah crap!” she exclaimed, dabbing at it with a cocktail napkin. She quickly gave up, tossing the wet napkin on Waverly’s coffee table. “This is why I wear dark colors,” she explained. “Anyhow, Chrissy, color me intrigued. Whatever could Perfect Perry have done?”

 

“To be honest, I have no idea. That man is apparently involved in some shady business that I’ve been too blind to notice.” Chrissy sighed. 

 

“Chrissy, no,” Waverly said gently. She looked around the group. “All of us are guilty of this, having let our men get away with murder--”

 

“Maybe a lil too soon, honey,” Rosita chimed in.

 

“Well you know what I mean,” Waverly finished with confidence. She could feel Nicole’s hand on her lower back, supporting and comforting her as she got in stride. “Seriously, think about our marriages! Matrimony is supposed to be a sacred institution, yet every single one of ours was built on a foundation of dishonesty!”

 

“So many big words at book club, baby sis,” Wynonna said. 

 

Chrissy cleared her throat. “I’m talking about Perry, girls. Seriously, Daddy told me to be careful! What does that even mean? About what? And he’s got us with a private driver, and he’s always looking out the window. And he won’t let me have a baby!” 

 

Wynonna looked guiltily in the direction of Alice Michelle before leaning in with a low whisper. “Have mine?”

 

Waverly rolled her eyes at her sister. “Wynonna, hush. Everyone knows you love Alice Michelle.”

 

“Have you ever thought of just asking Perry what’s up?” Nicole asked.

 

All eyes turned to look at her as though she’d grown another arm, and she blushed slightly. “I mean, there’s nothing stopping any of us from asking our husbands what they’re up to, right? Except the ones who can no longer explain themselves, that is.” 

 

Rosita crossed herself and rolled her eyes piously heavenward. 

 

Chrissy huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well,  _ Nicole _ , you say that like it’s the easiest thing, and yet you got dragged off to the police station to explain your husband’s apparently world famous collection of male erotic pornography.”

 

Kate slid to the front of her seat, pouring another drink without even looking at the bottle, her eyes locked on Nicole, as Rosita began using her cocktail fork to eat the sliced peaches out of the pitcher of Ginger Upper. 

 

Waverly blushed bright red. “Chrissy Nedley Crofte!” she exclaimed. She looked guiltily at Nicole, then around the room at her guests. “It’s art photography, not pornography.” 

 

“If that’s what the kids are calling it these days,” Wynonna grunted. 

 

“Nonetheless,” Chrissy said. 

 

“Now this is getting interesting,” Wynonna replied, sitting up in her chair. “Tell me, Haught, are you a Kitty or a Marie?”

 

Waverly slapped her palm onto her forehead. “Oh my god, Wynonna.” She turned to Nicole, resting a hand on her knee. “I am so sorry, Nicole.”

 

Nicole smirked. “Let’s just say I got all the education I needed in prison.”

 

Chrissy gaped at her. 

 

“I’m kidding!” Nicole laughed. “It’s from a terrible movie that...why am I not surprised that you’ve seen it, Wynonna?”

 

“Look, I appreciate that you can joke about this,” Waverly said, frustration coloring her tone, “but we actually have a really big problem.”

 

“ _ I _ do, Waves,” Nicole answered. 

 

“No, Nicole.  _ We _ do.” Waverly stared at Nicole, hoping to convey the depth of her commitment. 

 

“So, what exactly is  _ our _ problem?” Wynonna emphasized. 

 

After Nicole explained the situation the mood in the room was pensive. Rosita tapped her fork against her teeth as Kate filed her nails. 

 

“The way I see it, there’s only one thing to do,” Wynonna concluded finally. 

 

“Pay him, I know,” Nicole said resignedly. 

 

“Oh no, to hell with that!” Wynonna exclaimed, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. “He’s setting you up. We need to set him right back up! So here’s the deal. Chrissy, your dad thinks that Perry’s up to something, right? Have you ever seen any of the places where he conducts business?”

 

“One time,” Chrissy answered slowly, “we were driving and he took us outside of town to some warehouses or something. He met someone there but no one would tell me what was up.” 

 

Wynonna nodded decisively. “We need to take a chance on that spot. Can you figure out where it is?”

 

Chrissy nodded.

 

“Okay, we have just under two weeks to put this together, ladies, but by the time this goes down, Gretchen’s going down.”

 

***

 

Chrissy’s driver had just made the second turn away from Waverly’s house when the surveillance car appeared behind them. She’d been watching carefully, expecting it to be there. It was the same dark gray Dodge Coronet she’d noticed parked near their house, or outside a restaurant when Perry’d taken her out, the driver casually reading a newspaper or napping behind the wheel. 

 

“Stop here!” Chrissy called, but the car kept rolling. She slid forward on the seat. “I said, stop here,” she repeated. 

 

“No can do, Missus,” the driver answered. “Mister’s orders, never stop, just to and from.”

 

“Listen,” Chrissy said, “this is very embarrassing but...I’ve just gotten my monthly all over my dress.” 

 

The car stopped so abruptly that Chrissy had to throw her hands out to brace herself on the back of the driver’s seat. The driver cleared his throat. “Do you...uhh---”

 

“I see the house of a friend of mine just behind us. I will just trot over there in a jiffy and take care of myself.” Chrissy hopped from the car and crossed the street. She could see the gray Dodge pulled over just around the corner behind them.

 

“God,” she muttered to herself, “if these are the best our government can afford, I fear for the security of our nation.” When she’d passed the block the Dodge was on, she doubled back behind it, slipping up on the passenger side and knocking hard at the window. The driver startled upright, looking wildly about and groping at his blazer covered side. Chrissy waved prettily. 

 

“Hello there!” she called. 

 

A nervous look flashed over the young man’s face. He was sturdily built with a crisp flat top. His dark suit and tie said government employee, and Chrissy couldn’t miss the bulge at his hip. She pulled the car door open and slipped inside, turning to smile toothily at the agent and hold out her right hand.

 

“Chrissy Crofte,” she introduced herself. “Unless you want your cover totally blown, you’re going to tell me why you’re following my husband. I think maybe I can help you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Lucky ](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) and [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1113815176057249792) on Twitter for a good time. Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends!
> 
> Here is your next chapter, please note the chapter change. ;) Waverly has a proposition for Nicole. But not a sexy one. Chrissy tries to talk to Perry and he loses his head a bit.
> 
> Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

Waverly stepped back from the board she had put together, neat bullet points written out in an easy to follow manner. Part of her had been thrilled to get a chance to put together a _presentation_ like she hadn’t since school. It was like it exercised a part of her brain she hadn’t used in years, getting to stretch and work it once more.

She had woken up early to work on it, getting up before Nicole and slipping quietly out of bed. It had been hard to pull herself from her girlfriend’s arms lately, half convinced that something bad would happen as soon as she let her go. So much had happened that she was terrified of everything crashing down around them. Which was why she had devised this plan.

Padding back into the bedroom, she smiled to see Nicole completely spread out in the bed. Her red hair, spilled across her face, looked like copper under the freshly born sunbeams that were filtering in through the bedroom window. The sheets were curled around her naked body, the soft white cotton with pink printed flowers making her look like some kind of modern Greek painting.

Waverly’s heart swelled with affection as she crawled into bed next to her. Nicole groaned as the mattress dipped, moving over in her sleep so that Waverly had room in the bed. She slipped her arm over Nicole’s torso and smoothed her hand up her side until her fingers curled around her ribs. 

Nicole’s skin was so warm and soft to the touch. Waverly breathed her in. Vanilla. Always vanilla, just different kinds. In the morning it was a warm vanilla, like a cake fresh out of the oven. When they made love it was like spiced vanilla. Sharp with an understated sort of muskyness that made Waverly’s blood pound through her veins. 

“Morning, baby,” Waverly said against Nicole’s neck. Nicole let out a sleepy sigh and pressed her face to the top of Waverly’s head.

“Too early,” she whispered. “You’re not naked enough.”

Waverly blushed and pushed her nose against the soft skin of Nicole’s throat. “I’ve been up.”

“Doin’ what?” Nicole asked, still on the verge of sleep and consciousness.

“I have something to show you,” Waverly said as she placed light, waking kisses up the column of her neck. Nicole hummed in interest and turned her body a little more towards Waverly’s, eyes still closed. Waverly could feel Nicole’s body waking in a different way, undertones of spiced vanilla leaking through. “Nothing sexy.”

“Boring,” Nicole teased. Waverly pinched Nicole on the hip and she laced her fingers with the offending hand. Nicole quickly corrected herself. “‘M sure it’s great, baby. Is it one of your...special drinks?”

“No smiling dolphins today,” Waverly said. “But I can make you one later if you want.”

“No no,” Nicole insisted sweetly, “only for special occasions.”

Waverly lovingly traced the line of Nicole’s collarbone with the lightest touch, fingers barely touching the skin. She moved her fingers over Nicole’s shoulder and kissed the bottom of her chin. 

“Wanna get up?” Waverly said, body thrumming with excited energy.

“No’ really,” Nicole mumbled. “‘M tired.”

Waverly kissed across Nicole’s chest, lips tracing the freckles she had memorized at this point. Like a map of the stars that led straight to Nicole’s heart. She could feel Nicole’s heart rate flutter under her lips. Waverly pressed her palm into the indent of Nicole’s hip and pushed her onto her back. Her leg slipped over Nicole’s hips and she pulled her nightgown over her head. Nicole’s eyes finally opened and they traveled up Waverly’s body to her face. The prettiest blush spread over Nicole’s chest and up to her neck, as that dimpled smile crawled over her face.

“I can think of a way to wake you up,” Waverly purred, taking both of Nicole’s hands and placing them over her breasts. “If you’re interested.”

“Oh, darlin’, you know I am,” Nicole said, sitting up to kiss Waverly deeply.

***

Chrissy hummed to herself as she pushed her fork along the edge of the pie crust expertly. She smiled, satisfied, as she finished before moving on to the smaller pie, no bigger than a cupcake. She had cut a very elaborate strawberry out of the pie crust earlier and carefully placed it on top of the strawberry rhubarb. She then took the tiny cut out paw print she’d made and set it on top of the smaller pie. Ground meat.

Pierre whined and pawed at her leg and Chrissy cooed at him. “Not yet, baby. It has to cook first.”

She was still flying high from her talk with the least subtle FBI agent she could ever imagine. It only took a moment for her to convince him to let her help, which probably should’ve been some sort of red flag, but Chrissy would chalk it up to her excellent negotiation skills. All she had to do after he spilled the beans about Perry being in the mob, was to tell him that she knew where the next money drop would be. So what if it was going to be Gretchen picking up the money and not Perry. They didn’t need to know.

Now they were all set. Gretchen would be caught by the feds trying to pick up a bribe and none of them would ever have to worry again. Chrissy gave herself a little excited shake of her fist as she slid both of the pies into the oven and shut the door. This was almost as good as the time that she did that backflip at the end of the homecoming game their freshman year at the end of the cheerleading routine. Almost.

This time there wouldn’t be the thunderous applause of her adoring fans. Or...the rest of the Purgatory High Student body anyways.

While there wouldn’t be the thunderous applause, she was still looking forward to the moment her friends realized that _she_ came in at the last second to save them. Her. Chrissy Crofte. Formerly Chrissy Nedley. 

And she would do so with a pie. 

As the pies cooked, she redid her makeup, made sure her light blue and cream colored dress was starched and ready for the big reveal. Pierre got his curls fluffed and Chrissy even changed him into his evening collar. A classier selection from his collection, ready for a glitz and glamour night on the town.

The oven pinged and Chrissy walked back into the kitchen, the click-clack of Pierre’s nails against the floor echoing her heels. She took the pies out of the oven and set them on the rack to cool for a moment. One last look at her hair, she took an oven square she had knit not too long ago and tucked Pierre under her arm before heading off to Waverly’s.

She hummed a senseless tune to herself as she walked over to Waverly’s house and knocked on the door.

***

Waverly practically purred as her pliant body molded itself to Nicole’s, as she lay down on top of her. Nicole kissed along Waverly’s chest and up her neck, tongue coming out to taste the sweat that beaded along Waverly’s skin. Waverly wiggled under Nicole’s mouth and giggled, tugging on her long hair to get her lips against her own again. 

“Awake now?” Waverly whispered against Nicole’s lips before their tongues curled together softly. 

“Oh yeah,” Nicole said. She pressed her arms between the mattress and Waverly’s back, her hands resting on Waverly’s shoulders as their legs tangled. They kissed for a few more moments, tongues and lips thick with need as their heartbeats slowed and synched. 

“Baby?” Waverly said, stomach alight with nerves. Nicole hummed as her lips traveled back to Waverly’s ear and nibbled on the lobe. “What if we just...ran away?”

“What do you mean?” Nicole whispered into Waverly’s ear, tongue tracing the shell.

Waverly wanted to have a real conversation. To really discuss this as...two adults who were very in love. Not that they had said the words yet...there was still that little block, that little bit of restraint Waverly couldn’t quite let go of to say how she truly felt about Nicole, to her face. But if proposing to run away with her wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was.

Waverly placed her hand flat on Nicole’s chest and gently pushed her away. Nicole pretended to huff in frustration but her eyes sparkled with something else. 

“I meaaaaaaaan,” Waverly said, voice small as her fingers dipped into the hollow of her throat. “What if we...ran away? Together?”

“Away from here?”

Waverly nodded, pulling her bottom lip nervously between her teeth. “Away from...all of this.”

Nicole’s face sobered and she blinked down at Waverly for a moment. “You’re um...serious.”

Embarrassment flooded Waverly’s chest and she felt her cheeks flush. “I mean...yeah. Doesn’t it...make sense? Just somewhere to start fresh. Just you and me.” Nicole’s eyes searched her face and Waverly felt some of her confidence come back when she saw a deep thinking behind her brown eyes. “I mean...think about it. You...me...a house somewhere near the ocean. The _ocean_. Far away from everyone. No more suburbs. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Nicole shook her head, brow furrowed. “Waverly. I-...couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me, I’m asking you,” Waverly said, hand curling into a fist on Nicole’s chest. 

“It would be too much,” Nicole mumbled. “And if Chrissy is already going to handle Gretchen…”

“We could be so much more than this,” Waverly reasoned. 

There was a knock at the door and both women froze. Waverly’s blood ran cold and she thought about Gretchen standing behind the door and waiting to take Nicole away again. 

“Waves!” came Chrissy’s very distant voice. “It’s me!”

Both of them breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“I’ll get it,” Waverly whispered, pecking Nicole’s lips again. “Just wait here. And think about what I asked.”

Waverly pulled her robe off from the hook right in her closet and slipped it on. She ran a hand through her wild hair in an attempt to tame it as she willed the coloring in her cheeks to go away. She looked down at her robe, the slick material clinging to her sex-warmed skin, and just blushed deeper. Waverly would just poke her head out, tell Chrissy she’d have to come back when they weren’t...occupied.

She got to the door and opened it just enough to peer out. Chrissy stood there beaming at Waverly, pie in one hand and Pierre perched in the other.

“Hey, Waves,” Chrissy said through her smile. “Can I come in? Thanks!”

Chrissy had already pushed her way past Waverly and into the house. In vain, Waverly pulled her robe around her tightly, even though she knew it really wasn’t hiding anything at this point.

“Chrissy!” Waverly said, voice high, “To what do we- er...I owe this pleasure?”

Chrissy gave her a double take, like she had just noticed her attire for the first time. Chrissy smirked. “Looks like it’s not _me_ you owe your pleasure to.”

Nicole chose that time to come out in the living room dressed in nothing but her button up men’s shirt, undone down to her navel and stopping mid-thigh. “Waves, what did Chrissy-?

She stopped mid-sentence when she noticed a second presence in the living room.

“Nicole,” Chrissy grinned like the cat who caught the canary. “I won’t keep you two long,” she said, walking over to Waverly and placing the pie in her hands. The dish was still warm from the oven and the enticing scent of strawberry rhubarb wafted up into Waverly’s nostrils. “I just wanted you all to know that...it’s done.”

Waverly blinked at Chrissy, mind still a little foggy from the sex and Chrissy barging into the house. She shook her head for a moment. “What is...done?”

Chrissy sighed and pouted a little bit. “I was hoping the whole thing would be more dramatic than this but...it’s done. I put the wheels in motion with the Feds. We don’t even have to do anything. The FBI will handle it from here on out.”

Waverly bounced a little in excitement, clapping her hands together in front of her. Her eyes crinkled into half moons under the brightness of her smile. “You did it, Chrissy!”

Chrissy reached forward and put her hands on top of Waverly’s on the pie dish. “ _We_ did it, Waverly.”

They squealed like school girls and jumped up and down, pie jiggling a little in her hands.

“It’s like the dynamic duo is back together again,” Chrissy said with a wink. “This is like the time we got you nominated for Homecoming Queen!”

They squealed again and continued their jumping.

Nicole cleared her throat and Waverly looked over at her. Her cheeks were tinted almost the same color as her hair. She pointed at Waverly’s robe. “You um...the jumping.” 

Waverly looked down and saw that her robe had come loose and her breasts were threatening to spill out of the fabric.

“Oh, oops,” Waverly said as she tightened her robe again.

Chrissy scoffed and waved her hand through the air. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, Nicole.” They both caught Nicole’s confused and slightly concerned look. “Cheerleading. Best friends since diapers. Don’t be jealous.”

Chrissy winked at Nicole and made her blush even deeper. Waverly just giggled and looked back up at her best friend. 

“Thanks, Chrissy. For the pie, and for handing the Gretchen situation,” Waverly said. “I owe you.”

“We both do,” Nicole interjected from where she was sitting on the arm of the couch. 

“Well, girls, as much as I would like to stay and chat-” Waverly heard Nicole make some kind of choking noise. “-I have to go talk to Perry about having babies and letting me in on his mob gig.”

Waverly blinked and wondered if she heard what she thought she did. “Um...did you say-?”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing,” Chrissy said as she bent over and gave Waverly two air kisses, one for each cheek. “I’ll see you later!”

She waved a hand behind her back to Nicole and walked back out the door. The door clicked shut and Waverly looked over at Nicole whose eyebrows were in her hairline. Waverly smiled at her and held up the dish. 

“Want some pie?”

***

Nicole moaned and Waverly’s heart skipped a beat as she turned to look at her. Nicole had a rapturous look on her face, fork poised in front of her mouth as she enjoyed the piece of pie Waverly had handed her just moments before. Waverly rolled her eyes at herself and set up the board she had put together that morning.

She felt a small tug on the back of her robe and smiled as Nicole pulled her down into her lap. Nicole was still only wearing the men’s shirt, buttons open low so that she could see the freckles on her chest. Waverly curled up sideways in Nicole’s lap and kissed her softly. She could taste the pie on her lips and hummed.

“Want a real bite?” Nicole asked, holding the fork up with a piece of pie on it. Waverly leaned forward and took the bite off the fork, feeling crumbs fall down her front. She couldn’t help the moan that rolled off her lips.

“Fudge, that’s good,” Waverly said.

Nicole’s eyes were on her chest where the crumbs had fallen and she leaned forward, licking them off Waverly’s chest. Waverly squirmed at Nicole’s tongue on her chest and her fingers pulling away the opening of her robe.

“Tastes even better on you,” Nicole mumbled against her chest as she pulled one of Waverly’s nipples into her mouth. 

Waverly felt the heat starting low in her belly and regretfully pushed Nicole away.

“I have things to show you,” Waverly whispered. 

Nicole’s lips left Waverly’s nipple with a pop and she placed one quick kiss on Waverly’s lips. “Fine. Presentation first, then I eat you alive.”

The mischievous sparkle in Nicole’s eyes warmed Waverly’s belly and heart, and all the nerves she had about what she was about to propose disappeared. Nicole was here. Nicole was hers. Fully. She had never been so sure of anything. Even when she was married to Champ she wasn’t completely convinced he was dedicated to her. 

“You’re awful,” Waverly said, in a way that made it very clear it wasn’t a complaint. Waverly didn’t know what had happened to her since she had met Nicole. She’d never felt this...randy. She’d have her moments, but usually one disappointing roll in the hay with Champ was enough to tamper that feeling. But with Nicole it was like she couldn’t get enough. Waverly kissed her soundly on the mouth and got up from her lap. She straightened out her robe and cleared her throat, pointing at the presentation board.

Along the top was written: _How to Run Away from Everything_

Under that, she had neatly written out bullet points for each of her reasons to leave.

“This, Nicole, is a presentation of all my reasons we should leave Purgatory and not look back.” Waverly gestured towards the board with a flourish while Nicole gave her an amused smile. It was very distracting how she kept licking the pie off her lips but Waverly persevered.

“First off, the police won’t leave us alone,” Waverly started. “Even though Chrissy is going to take care of Gretchen, who knows if there’re any other men on the force who are suspicious of us.”

Nicole nodded. “Noted.”

Waverly looked at her, waiting for more input, but Nicole just kept happily munching on her pie. “Okay, second point, we have the money to do it. I have almost all of the insurance money from Champ. Plus I can sell the house and you can sell your house-”

Nicole stopped mid-bite, eyes wide. “I...can’t sell the house.”

“Why?”

“It’s not in my name,” Nicole confessed. “It’s always been in Fish’s name, I just-...it never came up.”

“Admittedly this does put a wrench in my plans,” Waverly said. They couldn’t very well just abandon Nicole’s house, could they? That would seem even more suspicious if people were looking for a reason to accuse them of anything.

“I’ll tell you what,” Nicole said as she finished her pie and set the plate aside. She reached out for Waverly again and she easily fell into her arms, sitting on Nicole’s lap once more, presentation forgotten. “I’ll contact Fish. I’ll see if he can put the house up for sale and we can split the money.”

“You think he’d be interested in that?” Waverly asked as she set her forehead against Nicole’s.

“We can certainly find out,” Nicole said as her hand slipped under the hem of Waverly’s nightgown. “And you know...the car I’ve been working on in the garage is ready for her first ride...a cross country trip could be a good first journey.”

Waverly beamed. “Really?”

Nicole nodded and kissed her briefly. “You sure you’d be okay leaving? Leaving all your friends? Wynonna?”

Waverly sighed and looked down at her lap. She’d been...avoiding really thinking about it. She loved Wynonna, obviously. She was her sister. But she couldn’t escape the itch to flee. To run and find a new place for her and Nicole to call their own. Somewhere that wasn’t tainted. 

“I’m going to talk to her later about the whole thing.”

“You talk to her, and I’ll talk to Fish. Okay?” Nicole said kissing Waverly again. “Where were you thinking of moving?”

Waverly smiled and reached for a travel magazine she had on her desk. She flipped it open to the bookmarked page and held it out for Nicole to see. “I was thinking...Malibu, California. They have these beautiful ranch homes-”

“Done,” Nicole said, punctuating it with a kiss.

“Really?” Waverly breathed.

Nicole leaned forward and nodded against her lips, fingers curling around Nicole’s jaw as she drew their mouths deeper together.

***

Chrissy adjusted the big sunglasses on her face and tucked a stray blonde hair under the scarf she had tied around her head. She had waited for their driver to be out of the car before she casually strolled over to it and took it. It was just what she needed after all. A car with dark tinted windows and without plates. Really all she needed was a car that she couldn’t be seen in, even if someone glanced into the windows. 

Luckily the driver always put his keys in his coat pocket and Chrissy always insisted he hang it on the coat rack when he came into the house to use the facilities. That plus the laxatives she had slipped into the pie she gave him that morning, and she knew she was in business.

Binoculars and Pierre on the seat next to her, Chrissy pulled down the block from the drop site Nicole had suggested to Gretchen just a few days before. She parked and picked up the binoculars, making sure she was far enough away that no one would notice her. She saw a blonde man walking down the street and put the binoculars over her eyes. It had to be Gretchen. She watched as he looked both ways, looking totally conspicuous. If Chrissy didn’t already know he was guilty, she sure would now. 

Chrissy watched as he went to the bushes on the side of a warehouse where he had told Nicole to put the ten thousand dollars. He looked around again before flattening himself along the side of the warehouse and scooting between the wall and the bush. At the second bush, he reached down and picked up a yellow envelope with the cash in it. As soon as he straightened back up, three men in nice suits came out of hiding from a van that was concealed halfway down the block.

“FBI! Don’t move!” Chrissy could hear from the car.

Gretchen froze, looked down at the envelope and plastered on a smile. “Hey, boys, you get the same tip I did?”

“Put the envelope down! Hands behind your head!” one of the FBI men shouted as a cop car and unmarked car pulled up.

“I’m on your side, guys!” he said with a nervous laugh.

“I said hands behind your head!”

“It’s okay-! Oof!”

One of the suited men ran up to Gretchen and twisted his arm behind his back, forcing him to the ground by his knees.

“Ow! This is all a misunderstanding! I’m a cop!” he shouted as he was forced to the ground.

Nedley and Johnson got out of the cop car, both with solemn faces. Gretchen noticed them and started shouting even louder.

“Hey! Hey, Sheriff! Tell ‘em! I’m one-a you!”

The FBI slapped a pair of handcuffs on him and pulled him roughly to his feet. Nedley and Johnson looked away, seemingly out of respect but maybe it was just embarrassment. Chrissy smiled triumphantly to herself as Gretchen was put into one of the unmarked cars.

“It’s done, Pierre,” Chrissy said as she set the binoculars back down. Pierre made a squeaking noise and looked back up at Chrissy with big, black marble eyes. “You know, I think we’ve learned a very important lesson. Never rely on other people when you can do something yourself.”

Chrissy looked back to where the FBI agent that had been tailing them was now talking to her father. Johnson looked distraught, hat in his hands as he talked to the agent. 

“And I think we did pretty damn good.”

***

As Waverly was walking up Wynonna’s driveway, the handsome milkman was walking out. He wasn’t in his starched white uniform, which was a little jarring, but Waverly smiled just the same.

“Hello, Xavier,” Waverly beamed. “Nice to see you out of your uniform.”

He looked a little...caught. But smiled just the same. “Mrs. Hardy.”

“Earp,” Waverly corrected politely. “Just Earp now. But you can call me Waverly.”

“Alright then, Waverly. You have a nice day,” he said.

“You too!” Waverly said continuing up the steps to Wynonna’s door. She knocked briskly and Wynonna answered oddly quickly. 

“Oh, hey,” she said patting a stray hair down onto her head. She looked over Waverly’s shoulder and smirked at Xavier’s retreating form. “See you ran into my morning appointment.”

“How’s that going?” Waverly asked as she stepped inside. “Ready to get rid of the Earp name again.”

Wynonna scoffed and sat on the couch, Alice watching Howdy Doody on the television. “He’s good with Alice,” she said, voice wavering. Waverly watched as her sister quickly pushed away any sort of emotion and wiggled her eyebrows instead. “And good in the sack.”

Waverly smoothed out her skirt as she sat down on the couch across from her sister. “If you say so.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Wynonna asked, lighting up a cigarette and taking a deep breath.

Waverly sighed and looked back down at her skirt. It wasn’t as if she was avoiding the conversation. But she wasn’t exactly sure how it would play out. She and Wynonna had been together since-...well forever really. After their Daddy died, Gus took them in but it was really just Waverly and Wynonna, taking on the world. Wynonna had already shouldered a lot of the burden, skipping the last year of high school to work while Waverly finished. She never thought she’d be away from her sister to even wonder what it might be like. Now she was about to embark on this adventure without her.

“Well, you know I lo-...that I love Nicole,” Waverly started.

“Yes, and when two people love each other, they get together and fu-”

“Nonna!” Waverly chastised, as she looked over at Alice who was entranced by the television. She tried to tamper her blush and looked back at her sister who looked all too pleased with herself.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Yes, I am aware of your love for Haught pants,” Wynonna said, waving her hand dismissively in the air. “Though...have you told _her_ yet?”

“In...not so many words,” Waverly dismissed. “For example, I...asked her to move with me. Away. From here.”

Wynonna blinked. “Oh. Like the next town over, or-?”

Waverly bit her lip. “Like...California.”

Wynonna tapped the end of her cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table. “Huh.”

“And I...wanted to talk to you first. Obviously,” Waverly said, wringing her hands nervously.

Wynonna frowned and shook her head. “Me? Why?”

“Because...you’re my sister,” Waverly said matter of factly. “We’ve always been together.”

“Maybe that’s the reason you should...go,” Wynonna shrugged. Waverly was about to be hurt by her blasé attitude but Wynonna quickly caught her look and covered Waverly’s hand with hers that wasn’t holding the cigarette. “What I’m saying is...it’s time for you.”

Waverly shook her head. “What...do you mean?”

Wynonna took a final drag of her cigarette and tapped it out on the ashtray. She scooted closer to Waverly and took her sister’s hands in her own. “Waverly, all your life you’ve been...molding yourself to what you think other people expected you to be,” Wynonna started gently. “And you’ve always been wonderful and beautiful but...when Champ croaked I saw a different side of you come out.”

Waverly licked her lips and squeezed her sister’s hands a little.

“It was like watching you learn how to be...free,” Wynonna said, voice a little in awe. “I saw you learn how to...how to really _be_ yourself. I was a little worried at first about you and Haught stuff, to be honest, but not why you might think. I was worried you would throw yourself into another relationship and just fall into the same patterns but...she brought a part out of you that I’ve never seen before.”

Waverly felt her throat close up, eyes welling with tears that she knew Wynonna would hate if she let fall. Sure enough, Wynonna gave her a playful look, her own tears shining in the corners of her eyes.

“Baby girl, you have done so much for me and Alice, and it’s your turn to find your happiness. And if that’s with Haught in California than just...make sure to come visit and make sure to invite us over,” Wynonna finished with a watery smile.

Waverly chuckled, a tear escaping down her cheek and she leaned forward to touch her head to Wynonna’s. “Thank you, Nonna,” she said through her tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby girl,” Wynonna said with a smile. 

“And you deserve happiness too, remember,” Waverly said firmly. “With whomever you want.”

Wynonna shrugged. “We’ll see. Alice will have some thoughts, I’m sure.”

“Nicole wants a horse so...I bet Alice will love that,” Waverly chuckled, wiping away the last of her stray tears. 

“Oh, Alice will _love_ that,” Wynonna confirmed, looking to where her daughter was making angels on the carpet in front of the television. She looked back at Waverly and smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

Waverly couldn’t help but cry again.

***

For dinner, Chrissy had made pot roast. Perry and Pierre’s favorite.

Gretchen was in custody, and now she had to start on the second phase of her plan. The phase she called: Get Chrissy (and Pierre) to power.

Perry gave Chrissy the usual kiss on the lips when he got home, coat and hat on the coat rack. Chrissy did love her husband. She loved him more than anything. He was even neck to neck with Pierre! But he’d done something wrong and now she was going to help him fix it. 

Now to just get him backed into a corner, so she could come swooping in.

Setting dinner out, Chrissy kissed Perry on the cheek before sitting down at the other end of the table. 

“This looks fantastic, darling,” Perry said, with a big smile. 

“Thank you, dear,” Chrissy beamed back. “I have pie for dessert.”

“Great.”

They ate in silence for a moment before Chrissy hummed. “You know what Daddy told me today?”

“What’s that?” Perry asked, still looking down at his plate.

“He said one of their police officers got caught mixed up in the mob. Can you imagine? The _mob_ in Purgatory?” Chrissy said, making her eyes wide. She watched Perry carefully and to his credit, he didn’t flinch, just started chewing a little slower.

“The mob?” Perry managed a chuckle. “Seems like something you heard down there at your silly little book club, dear.”

Chrissy bristled a little and wanted to tell Perry that their book club was anything but silly, but she bit her tongue. 

“I’m serious, Perry. Anyways, it was an Officer Gretchen. Blond fellow, real rat like face. He said his partner Johnson rolled right over on him,” Chrissy took a large bite of pot roast and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “He said that Gretchen was always sneaking off, going on calls without him. That kinda stuff that doesn’t seem suspicious until you realize that they were doing something bad. You know what I mean?”

Perry cleared his throat and took a long sip of the gin and tonic that Chrissy had put out for him. “I know what you mean.”

Chrissy nodded knowingly. “Daddy told me to be careful but then had to go because apparently Gretchen was singing to the feds like a little canary!”

“Singing? He was talking about the-...this so called mob?” Perry asked, as he loosened his tie. Chrissy noticed a slight shake to Perry’s hand. 

Pierre danced on his two back legs and Chrissy dropped a piece of pot roast directly into his mouth. 

“Oh, that I’m not sure,” Chrissy said regretfully. “Daddy had to go before he could say. But I imagine all kinda things. Names and all that.”

Perry slowly put his fork and knife down, palms flat down on the table. “Darling, this is delicious, but I think my lunch didn’t agree with me and it’s not sitting so well. I’m going to go into my office. I have a couple of calls to make anyways.”

“Okay, dear,” Chrissy pouted. “I’m sorry you don’t feel well. I’ll get you some ginger ale and pack up the pot roast for your lunch tomorrow.”

“As long as some vodka makes it way in there, I’ll take that ginger ale,” Perry said, as he got up and took strides to his office, slamming the door behind him. Chrissy smiled down at Pierre and set her mostly eaten plate on the ground for him to lick clean.

***

When Fish unlocked the front door of the house, Nicole hardly recognized him.

His hair was longer, more grown out and curly than the typical slicked back she had grown used to. He had a bit of a five o’clock shadow and was wearing what could only be described as a toga. With him was another man, curly salt and pepper hair and kind eyes, wearing the same clothes.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Fish drew Nicole in for a hug. She stood stiff for a moment before returning it. He pulled back and held Nicole at arm’s length with a small frown.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brow furrowed in concern. “You only briefly filled me in but...it seemed bad.”

Nicole sighed with a sad smile. “It...could have been worse,” she admitted with a cringe. “Its handled now though. Which is why I need your help.” Her eyes flickered to the man standing behind Fish who was now looking at their stiff wedding photo with fascination.

“Oh, how rude of me,” Fish said, beckoning the other man over. He slipped his arm around his shoulders and smiled almost shyly at Nicole. “This is Levi. We’re...together.”

Nicole offered a genuine smile and reached out to greet him with a handshake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Nicole.”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about you,” Levi said, with a nervous chuckle. He took Nicole’s hand in two of his own. “Nice to meet you, Nicole. And thank you for taking care of Ambrose all these years.”

“It was mutual,” Nicole said, as they dropped their hands. 

She made everyone drinks and they all sat around the coffee table, Nicole catching them up on the whole saga before they launched into the serious things. 

“So...Waverly then,” Fish said coyly, smiling at her over the top of his glass. “I totally knew something was up that day she came over.”

Nicole blushed and looked down at her drink. She couldn’t chase the wide smile off of her face at the mention of Waverly and all she could think about was her hair and her eyes and her hands and-

Fish cleared his throat and she jerked back to the present. “You seem happy.”

“I’m...very happy,” Nicole confessed. 

Fish just smiled wider. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, you know. I’m sorry if I was ever...less than kind because I was scared. I should have never made you wear dresses or-”

“Its fine,” Nicole said quickly. “It was easier for both of us.”

Fish nodded soberly before brightening back up again. “Well, good news is that I talked to our lawyer and the divorce papers will be easy to draft up. And I’ll sell the house for you and you’ll get your alimony.”

Nicole breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing a little bit. “Thank you.”

Fish shook his head. “I should be thanking you, Nicole. Just promise to send us a postcard every now and then.”

“I promise,” Nicole said with a wink.

***

Chrissy was on a roll. She was sure she was. 

Perry had been sweating since Chrissy told him that Gretchen was turning on his mob contacts. And she couldn’t resist rubbing it in Gretchen’s face. Just a little bit. She put on her favorite bright yellow dress with matching heels and white gloves, and headed into the station with Pierre perched in her purse.

Her yellow heels clicked on the grey linoleum as she made her way to her father’s office, waving at Lonnie at the front desk as she walked past. She walked through the bullpen, nodding at the different officers as she went. She saw Johnson’s desk near the middle and nodded to him, noting the desk next to his that was messy with papers. She would put money on guessing that was Gretchen’s desk.

Gretchen was apparently still in their holding cells. Something about waiting for federal paperwork to go through. Chrissy looked down the hall towards where she knew the holding cells were before wandering into her father’s office.

“Hey, Daddy,” Chrissy said with a light knock on his doorframe. He looked up from his paperwork and smiled a little when he saw her in the doorway holding up a paper lunch bag. “I brought you your favorite. Pot roast sandwich.”

“Extra mayo?” he asked hopefully.

“Always,” Chrissy said, as she walked up to his desk and sat the bag in front of him. “Just like Ma used to make.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said already reaching into the bag to take out the carefully wrapped sandwich. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“I just came by to drop off this sandwich for you. Do I really need an excuse to see my favorite cop?”

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Nedley said with a low chuckle. “Thank you for dropping by. Everything okay at home? Perry doing...fine?”

“Everything’s great,” Chrissy assured him, reaching forward and patting his hand. “Now, I must get going. But enjoy your lunch.”

“I will, sweetie,” he said. She gave him one last ‘best daughter’ smile and walked out of his office. She made sure to close the door behind her and then, instead of going back into the bullpens, she veered left to go towards the holding cells. Pierre whined from the purse as they walked, only a few officers walking along the hall, but no one seemed to care that the Sheriff’s daughter took the long way to the exit. The further they got down the hall, the dingier it seemed to get. 

The echo of her heels got louder and she finally made it back to acell where Gretchen was handcuffed to the bench seat. He was hunched over, head hanging between his knees from his place on the bench. His blond hair looked greasy and dull. She cleared her throat when she got to the bars and his head jerked up. He scoffed when he saw her and looked back down.

“Whatdu you want?” he mumbled.

Chrissy looked around to make sure there were no officers around before leaning closer to the bars, face practically between them. 

“I just came to say hello, Officer Gretchen,” she said sweetly. He looked back up at her and her smile remained wide. “Hello, and I hope you rot in hell.”

“What-?”

“I know what you tried to do,” Chrissy hissed at him. Anger blazed in her chest. “If you ever try to hurt my friends again...well...it really wouldn’t be all that hard to plant some of those erotic pictures that you were so obsessed with on your desk. Out for everyone to see.”

Gretchen’s face turned about a thousand shades of red. “You wouldn’t-”

“Oh, I would,” Chrissy said, lips stretched back into a grin. “And do you think they’d believe a dirty cop? Or the sheriff’s daughter who always makes desserts for the Annual Purgatory Picnic?”

Gretchen’s eyes were basically bulging out of his head.

“Toodle-oo!” Chrissy said with a wave before turning on her heels and heading back out towards the exit of the station. A self satisfied smirk on her face and a steady confidence to her walk.

***

Waverly had seen Fish and another man get dropped off by a taxi. She watched from her kitchen window as they went up to Nicole’s house and disappeared inside. Waverly knew she had no reason to worry, Nicole was convinced that he would give her the divorce without an issue. But still, there was always that dread hanging over her and she was sure it would remain there until they finally made it out of Purgatory unscathed.

She was getting fidgety in the house, so she went outside to water her lawn. And...maybe catch a hint of them through the window. 

But she got easily distracted when she saw Rosita walking down the sidewalk with her two massive dogs, one on each side. Rosita beamed and stopped on the other side of Waverly’s white picket fence.

“Hey, Waves,” she said as the two dogs sat obediently next to her. “Doing some yard work? Where’s Red?”

“She’s getting a divorce,” Waverly waved away the question. “How are you?”

“Good! Just walking Jennifer Lee and Dioge Rivera,” Rosita said, patting them on the head as she said their names. “They’re still learning…” She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a biscuit before speaking to the one dog. “Dio...Dio… _Dio!_ ” The one dog turned his head and she gave him a treat as a reward.

“I thought their names were...actually...what were their names?” Waverly asked, with a hand on her hip.

Rosita shook her head. “These dogs, much like myself, are now reborn. Given new life,” Rosita said with a flourish. “Like a phoenix.”

Waverly couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re reborn now?”

“I’m an entrepreneur now, Waves,” she said. “This is a new me. I sold that recipe book to the guy from Campbells for way more money than a recipe book about soup should ever be. And I’m using it to start my whiskey business!”

“Oh wow!” Waverly said with genuine shock. “Congrats!”

“Thank you,” Rosita said with a flip of her hair. “I’m going to be fantastic.”

“I’m excited for you, Rosie,” Waverly beamed.

“And I’m excited for you,” Rosita said softly. “Wynonna let it slip about your move.”

Waverly blushed and whispered. “We’re going to tell everyone soon. Just...waiting for some final pieces to fall into place.”

Rosita stood straight and smiled, just looking at Waverly for a moment. 

“What?” Waverly said self-consciously.

“Just...look at us,” Rosita said. “Two young, brand new women ready to take on the world. Who would have thought our husbands dying would be the best thing that ever happened to us.”

They laughed so hard that later, Wynonna would say she could hear them down the street.

***

It only took a couple of well placed pouts and another inquiry about having a baby to get Perry to take Chrissy to the fair. It was only in town for a little bit and it really was Chrissy’s favorite thing. And there really was something about the drama of confronting Perry in public that really made Chrissy excited. She would wait for the right moment which she figured was at the end of the night when they were in the car on the way home.

They went on the Ferris wheel first and then Chrissy got cotton candy. Pink. Her favorite. 

There was a mouse coaster that had a haunted house facade built around it, the final small fall on the track happening in total darkness as the outside of the ride boasted, with scary cartoons of witches and demons and vampires painted in garish colors.

“What about that one?” Chrissy bounced, pointing at the coaster.

“Alright,” Perry said, taking her hand. “Let’s do it. Then just a couple more and we should go home.”

“Fiiiiine,” Chrissy said, as they stepped up to the entrance of the ride. Perry handed the carny a couple of tickets, and he squinted up at Perry.

“You ain’t taller than six foot two, right?” the short man asked.

“Um...no?” Perry frowned.

The carnie nodded in approval. “Good. There’s some low decorations. No standing on the ride. Don’t even sit up straight. Ya hear?”

Perry chuckled. “Alright, thanks. I’ve been on this one a few times before. I know the drill.”

They got into the smaller queue and suddenly Chrissy felt her stomach turning in knots. Perry kept looking around them like someone would pop out at any second and snag him. He’d been doing it since she planted in his mind that Gretchen was going to leak his name to the police. It was annoying and frankly, Chrissy was ready for their confrontation.

“Perry, I know what you’re doing,” Chrissy blurted under her breath. She was done tiptoeing around and she was done playing dumb. “I know what you’re doing and I want in.” 

Perry just stared at her for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. They took another step forward until they were next to get on the coaster. 

“Chrissy, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, just looking around still. “Don’t be dumb.”

_Dumb._

The word struck a chord with Chrissy, and she spoke in a harsh whisper. “Perry, I’m serious.”  
They stepped onto the coaster, pulling the metal bar down over their laps as it began to jerk forward and start on the track. “I’m tired of constantly being put on the backburner. You’ve put our marriage and our family on the hold and frankly I’m done. I want in.” 

Perry still tried to laugh it off. “Chrissy, you’re being a little hysterical here.” 

They were plunged into darkness when they went through two doors that were painted like the open mouth of some water beast. There were spooky sounds playing overhead, clinking chains, ghostly moans. Chrissy spoke a little louder so that Perry could hear her.

“I want to be brought in as your partner.” Chrissy said, hands folded over the bar. She clarified. “For the mob” 

Perry sputtered, clearly caught by the last person he ever thought would catch him. Chrissy smiled triumphantly as they passed the dummy of a hanging man as lights flashed in the room. The track jerked them to the right and into a new room. Brightly painted rubber bats were pasted to the walls, some hanging on strings above their head and bouncing on some sort of mechanism so it looked like they were flying. 

“I can help,” Chrissy said conspiratally. 

Perry shook his head, suddenly serious. “No way, Chrissy.” 

The coaster began to go up a hill, its rusty engine chugging laboriously. The higher they got, the darker it became until Chrissy couldn’t see Perry at all. Chrissy sighed, shaking her cotton candy in frustration. “Well, it’s going to look really bad when Gretchen names you as a mob man.” 

“What?” Perry yelled, panicked.

“Well I saw him this morning and he seemed ready to talk,” Chrissy sing songed. 

“What?!” 

Chrissy knew she had Perry where she wanted him. Backed into a corner. “I could be your protection. Sheriff’s daughter and all. No one would ever suspect me.” 

“No, Chrissy. That’s the final answer,” Perry said again.

“Perry! Let me help! I already know everything!” Chrissy insisted. 

“You don’t know shit, Chrissy! This isn’t some little game you can play,” Perry hissed. “You really think the dumb little daughter of a small town Sheriff really has what it takes to have any part of the mob?”

Perry’s words stung deep and she could feel tears pressing against the back of her eyes. “You were one of the only people who never called me dumb,” Chrissy said, still angry but with pain leaking into her voice. “Well who’s dumb now, Perry? _You’re_ the one who got caught. And by the _dumb_ daughter of a small town Sheriff too.”

“Drop it, Christina. It’s not happening,” Perry said, shifting abruptly in his seat. “That’s my final decision as your husband.”

“Well you’ve been a really shitty husband!” she said, shocked by her own coarse language. “And I-...If you won’t respect me and let me help you, I want a divorce!”

She felt their small car jostle, the metal bar popping up off of her lap like Perry had stood. “No fucking way-”

There was a dull thud followed by a sickening crunch and Chrissy felt something warm spray over her face before the car jostled with a heavy thump, and it went down the small drop towards the end of the ride. Chrissy’s stomach plunged but she wasn’t sure if it was from the drop or the dread. They went through two more doors and were brought back into the light of the carnival. 

Chrissy was breathing heavily, the smell of copper filling her lungs as she dared to look over to where Perry sat. Perry was there- well...part of him. His neck was mangled, head barely hanging on by a few tendons and hanging back like some sort of grotesque pez dispenser, so that Chrissy could practically see down his throat. His spine even shone through the gore, white and covered in dripping blood, the force of the impact leaving the end of it splintered and dangerous looking. His eyes were wide and glassy, brows still furrowed in anger and mouth open in protest of Chrissy’s ultimatum. 

Chrissy’s stomach felt sick, chest tight as she turned away from her husband’s mangled body to look at her cotton candy. Blood had sprayed on it, some of the warm liquid melting the delicate sugar strands in a fascinating pattern that Chrissy was sure to never forget.

Chrissy opened up her mouth and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Lucky ](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) and [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1118891884867280896) on Twitter for a good time. Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! This wonderful and hilarious and sweet chapter is written by [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo). The next chapter will be our last, it is probably more like an epilogue. But we are very excited for how this wraps up. So enjoy.
> 
> Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

“Sweetheart.” 

 

Chrissy’s head snapped up at the sound of her father’s voice. The noise of the fair rushed back in all around her, the whirling lights on the rides, and the hot smell of fried food once again invading her senses. She was seated on the back of the ambulance, wrapped in a scratchy blue blanket and Perry was--

 

She chanced a look over her shoulder at the black rubber bag lying mournfully on the gurney inside the ambulance. A gentle hand settled warm on Chrissy’s shoulder and with a shiver she turned back to look at her father, his dark shirt looking crinkled as if he’d picked it up off the floor before putting it on. He clutched his hat in his hand. 

 

“Sweetheart,” the Sheriff repeated, “look at me. Are you okay?”

 

Chrissy considered his question. Off to the side, a few of her father’s officers murmured quietly amongst themselves, occasionally throwing Chrissy a pitying glance. One of them chatted idly with the carny who operated the coaster ride, scribbling the odd note on a pad. The ambulance men leaned against a police car, nonchalantly sharing a cigarette back and forth. 

 

“I guess there’s no reason to hurry to the hospital,” Chrissy muttered darkly, staring at the white-clad attendants. Sheriff Nedley turned to look at the two men before leaning closer to his daughter. He caressed her hair gently and she looked down at her hands, realizing with a shock that her stick of cotton candy was still gripped tightly in her fist, the flimsy cardboard cone a crumpled mess in her fist. With a look of revulsion, she set it gently on the bumper of the ambulance. 

 

“Chrissy, listen, this was a horrible accident,” her father continued. “Why don’t you let me take you home. You can get cleaned up and then we can talk a little bit...would that be okay?”

 

Chrissy recognized the tone of his voice. She’d heard it countless times when her father spoke on the telephone or with the family of victims of crimes. It was a soothing, lazy sing-song, and she couldn’t deny that it was effective. She stood up almost mechanically, holding the blanket tightly around herself, and allowed her father to wrap a thick arm around her shoulders. He nodded slightly at the ambulance men and led her over to his all black cruiser, holding open the door for her to settle inside. With a few quiet words to his men, Sheriff Nedley climbed inside the car and slammed the door. 

 

The heavy Ford hummed quietly along the darkened roads of Purgatory’s suburbs as Chrissy stared out the window. Her mind was a riot of emotions, but she was surprised to find out how gosh-darned angry she was at Perry. By the time they pulled into her driveway, much of the shock of the night seemed to have worn off, leaving Chrissy feeling almost a seething rage. She slammed out of the door of the cruiser, dropping the blanket on the ground, and stomped up to her front door, her father stumbling confused in her wake.

 

“Chrissy, wait,” he called after her.

 

“That sonofabitch,” Chrissy sobbed loudly. “How dare he call me stupid. Of all people!” 

 

“Wait, what?” Sheriff Nedley asked, confused.

 

Pushing in her front door, Chrissy stopped short. There was Pierre, dancing on his hind legs, yapping loudly with delight. Chrissy cold only stare at him as her father, wincing slightly, bent down to pick up the dog. He nudged Pierre against Chrissy’s tightly folded arms until she sighed out and took him, nestling him under her chin. Sheriff Nedley guided Chrissy over to the couch and sat her down. 

 

The Sheriff walked over to the well-appointed bar cart in the corner of the living room and pulled the crystal stopper from a decanter of whiskey. He poured two healthy glasses full and sniffed his own with a satisfied grunt, rolling the glass in the light to admire the color before carrying them over to the coffee table. Chrissy accepted the proffered glass, and her father settled in the armchair adjacent, stretching out his khaki-clad legs with a sigh. 

 

“I’m very sorry for what happened tonight, Chrissy,” her father said gently. Chrissy turned to look at him. She could see him mulling over his next words

 

“Daddy, did you know that Perry was involved with the mob?” 

 

Sheriff Nedley sat up a bit more, his eyes widening as he stared at his daughter. He set his drink down on a coaster and wiped his palms on his knees. 

 

“Well now, honey, I guess we’re getting right into this?”

 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Chrissy hissed accusingly, “or do you think I’m stupid too?”

 

“You know Chrissy, I think we were both pretty stupid this time,” Sheriff Nedley admitted. “All these years that you were married to Perry I knew there was something going on. That brother of his was never anything but a two-bit con man. Remember when he packed that old jalopy’s transmission with sawdust and sold it to Hardy, and three months later it broke down, right on the railroad tracks? As soon as Perry started up in business with him, I shoulda known something was up.”

 

He looked around the tidy house, tastefully furnished with the latest style of everything, and sighed. “It’s just...you just always seemed so happy after you found Perry, and since Mother passed...it’s all I ever wanted for you. I guess I turned a blind eye.” 

 

“We both did, Daddy,” Chrissy said softly, turning her glass in her hand. “When he--when it happened, I had just told him that I wanted a divorce. He stood up, I guess. The man told us not to stand up.” Chrissy voice caught in her throat and she curled her fist in front of her mouth as a fresh wave of horror rolled over her. After a moment, she remember the drink in her hand and threw it back, wincing slightly at the burn. Pierre stood up and stretched like a cat in her lap, circled once and then curled back up. Chrissy stroked him idly until she calmed. 

 

“The ah...FBI will probably want to come talk to you, honey. Perry was pretty high up in the mob, it turns out. We found their…a spot they’d use. An old hunting lodge out in the woods. You take as long as you need, Chris. I’ll keep them off of you for as long as you need.”

 

Chrissy looked gratefully at her father. “I think I’m going to get out of these clothes and bathe now, Daddy. I’ll be okay. I’ll call Waverly to stay with me for a little bit. Just telephone me tomorrow.” 

 

Nedley looked almost relieved as he stood up and walked over to Chrissy, placing a whiskery kiss on her cheek. She smiled at him wanly as he walked over to the coat rack and took his hat and jacket, shrugging it on. “Lock the door behind me, sweetheart,” he told her, and Chrissy nodded. 

 

“Good night, Daddy.” 

 

***

 

When Waverly came home from Chrissy’s the next day, her small overnight bag in hand, she found Nicole with her head and shoulders buried under the hood of her...no,  _ their  _ convertible. Waverly took a moment to appreciate Nicole’s ass, catching herself just before she slipped up against it, remembering the first time she’d startled Nicole with her head under the hood of the car. 

 

She opted instead to lower the radio volume, which had the desired effect of getting Nicole’s attention. She stood up and smiled at Waverly, reaching for a rag to wipe her hands. Waverly leaned a hip against the car, tracing her fingers over the “BUICK” embossed deeply into the chrome trim, shiny against the buttery yellow of the car.

 

“How’s Chrissy?” Nicole asked gently. Waverly sighed. 

 

“Well, it’s just so awfully  _ relatable _ , Nicole. She watched him die, horribly, which I know is...certainly jarring. And then she found out he was some sort of mob shot-caller! Who could even imagine the mob in Purgatory?” 

 

Nicole nodded, intrigued. “But she’s going to be okay? We should make her something.” 

  
  
“Rosita’s going over there this afternoon with Wynonna. Perry was a nice guy, Nicole, but he really hurt Chrissy by keeping the truth from her. In a way, the fact that she’s mad at him might actually make this easier for her to get past.” Waverly trailed a hand down Nicole’s arm. “As for you, if you want to keep working on getting the Roadmaster road worthy,” she smirked, “I’ll go make you a sandwich.”

 

“This is going to sound weird,” Nicole said, grabbing some unidentifiable car part off her workbench, “but I’ve been craving the weirdest sandwich combination. What do you think about some tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers on cream cheese? Maybe a bit of salt and pepper?”

 

“With ham salad?” Waverly asked, “Crab salad?” 

 

“No--” 

 

“Oooh, spam?”

 

“I was thinking...no meat.”

 

Waverly’s eyes widened. “A  _ vegetable _ sandwich, Nicole?” She pecked her lightly on the tip of her nose. “Okay, baby, you got it.”

 

Nicole turned the radio back up as she watched Waverly skip inside, shaking her head and smiling, then turned back to the car. 

 

***

 

“Tell me all the gory details,” Wynonna said, heading directly to the liquor cart and mixing herself a drink.

 

“Wynonna!” Rosita hissed, slapping at her arm. Wynonna’s glass sloshed and she looked accusingly at Rosita. 

 

“What!? We’ve all been there. I personally find it very cathartic to discuss how Doc died. It was almost...beautiful...really.” She put down her glass and held her hands up, as if framing a shot. “Like, you see it in the movies, but the way he slumped into the plate was so graceful that I thought he was faking!” 

 

“Don’t listen to her, Chrissy,” Rosita said, curling a comforting arm around her friend. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. We are just here for whatever you need, buuttt--while we’re here, how about some whiskey tasting?” She reached into a bag and pulled out three bottles, each labeled with a piece of masking tape with a number on it, placing them on the coffee table. 

 

“Scratch that thing about talking,” Wynonna said. “Drinking was way better therapy after Doc died.”

 

“You can’t fill an empty void with alcohol, Wynonna,” Chrissy said, from where she was bent to look into the cart for extra glasses. 

 

Wynonna barked out a laugh. “Oh don’t worry Chrissy, I’m not filling my void with just whiskey.” 

 

Rosita looked at her wide eyed. “Oh? Do tell?” she hummed, cocking a hip against the wall and resting her elbow on her hand. 

 

Wynonna waved her off. “No, no, we’re here for Chrissy now. Chris, we can do whatever you want. Talk about Pierre? Or...ummm, admire his collar collection?”

 

Chrissy sighed deeply. She sat down on the couch and Pierre jumped into her lap. “It was horrible, girls. At first I didn’t know what was happening, I just felt the...the blood. It went all over my cotton candy.”

  
“Gross,” Wynonna breathed, her eyes glassy with interest. Rosita threw her another look, then shook her head. She pushed off the wall and settled down next to Chrissy, rubbing her lightly on the shoulder. 

 

Chrissy shook her head as if clearing it of the memory. “I’m going to be honest with you two. Perry turned out to be a different person than I thought he was. When you all were...discovering this about your husbands, I felt so...gosh, I just have to say it. I felt judgmental. But now I know exactly what you all meant.”

 

Rosita nodded supportively. “It’s okay, honey.” 

 

“Actually, the FBI man is coming by in just a few minutes, so I don’t want to have too much to drink yet.” Chrissy looked into her glass, then put it down.

 

Wynonna looked nervous. “Why is the FBI man coming by? Should we leave?”

 

“No, please stay,” Chrissy said. “I’d rather have my best friends here if I have to go through this again.” 

 

Pierre’s head shot up just as a knock came at the door. He leapt off Chrissy’s lap and began yapping noisily at the door. Chrissy smiled fondly at him. “Mommy’s baby is always taking care of mommy, isn’t he!” she cooed. “At least I know you’ll never lie to me,” she muttered. 

 

Chrissy opened to the door to reveal “Agent Subtle”, as she’d begun to think of him. His beefy shoulders strained at the dark material of his suit jacket as he respectfully pulled off his hat, but she didn’t miss the way he chanced a quick look at her chest. 

 

“Mrs. Crofte. I’m so sorry for your loss. May I come in?” the agent asked politely.

 

Wynonna raised an eyebrow in Rosita’s direction, who pursed her lips appraisingly. 

 

“Please do,” Chrissy invited, stepping aside to let him in. 

 

“I assume your father told you that I would be coming by? I just have a few questions.” 

 

“Of course,” Chrissy said, ever the polite hostess. “Can I get you a drink, or anything?”

 

“No thank you,” the agent replied. He stood awkwardly until Chrissy directed him to an armchair. 

 

“These are my friends Mrs. Holliday and Mrs. Whitechapel, I hope you don’t mind if they sit with us?”

 

“Not at all. I’m Agent Karl.” The agent settled his bulky figure in the armchair and pulled a notepad out of his inner jacket pocket. “Now, Mrs. Crofte, as you’re aware, your late husband was involved in some...organized crime.”

 

Chrissy sniffled, and Rosita handed her a handkerchief. The agent looked between them with sympathy. “I just lost my husband as well,” Rosita explained. “He fought in the war. I know how she’s feeling.” 

 

“Of course,” Agent Karl said. 

 

“Until...recently,” Chrissy said, “I always thought Perry was a salesman!” 

 

“Did you know which company he supposedly worked for?” Agent Karl asked, pen poised over the paper. 

 

Chrissy looked at him, wide-eyed. “I feel terrible but...no. He was happy with his job and I just wanted everything to be perfect for him. We were high school sweethearts, you know. He asked me to marry him on prom night.”

 

Agent Karl nodded. “I can’t tell you too much about this investigation, because it’s still ongoing, but did Mr. Crofte ever bring home anything suspicious?”

 

“You mean besides that weird creature?” Wynonna asked, tipping her chin at Pierre. 

 

Chrissy frowned at Wynonna before turning back to the FBI man. She widened her eyes innocently. “Whatever do you mean by weird?”

 

Agent Karl cleared his throat and looked around. Three housewives smiled back at him primly, innocence writ large across their faces. Every item in the house was spotless, down to the Good Housekeeping magazines arranged symmetrically on the coffee table. Chrissy watched as his eyes hovered briefly on the bottles of unlabeled whiskey, but he shrugged dismissively. Of course there was nothing wrong with enjoying a drink now and then. He turned back to Chrissy, speaking in a low voice.

 

“The family Mr. Crofte was associated with was smuggling diamonds out of the country--inside items of clothing.” 

 

Chrissy slid her hand over Pierre’s neck. “Diamonds?” she asked, her eyes practically bulging from her head. She looked at her friends. Wynonna was biting her cheek and Rosita sipped deeply from her glass. 

 

“Yes,” Agent Karl continued. “So he never brought home any...fur accessories? Hats? Coats?”

 

“No, not at all,” Chrissy said. She held out her hand, displaying a large wedding set. “This belonged to Perry’s grandmother. You can ask his parents.” 

 

Agent Karl shook his head. “No, no, that won’t be necessary. He tapped the tip of his pen on the essentially blank notepad in front of him, then nodded decisively. “I think we’re about done here Mrs. Crofte. I just want to say...you’ve done a really good job. Your government thanks you. Catching a dirty cop with mob connections was an unexpected bonus.” 

 

“Oh yes, Officer Gretchen,” Chrissy said, making a moue. “My father was so disappointed with him.”

 

Agent Karl cleared his throat with a nervous look. “Yes, well, I shouldn’t be telling you this but I’m not sure how much we’ll be able to get out of him. It seems some of the Family connections inside arranged a hit on Gretchen. He’s...uhh, currently in a coma at the state hospital. I guess they really didn’t want him to talk.”

 

Rosita shook her head, crossing herself. 

 

“Oh sweetie,” Wynonna said, wide-eyed, to Chrissy, “you’re so lucky that you avoided getting caught up in this  _ dangerous _ world.”

 

Agent Karl smiled benevolently. “Ladies, I won’t take up any more of your day. Again, Mrs. Crofte, I am sorry for your loss. If anyone tries to reach out to you...any of Mr. Crofte’s business contacts, please do not hesitate to call me.” He placed a business card on the table in front of him and stood up. Chrissy hastened to walk him to the door. 

 

Agent Karl tipped his hat as he exited. “Good day, ladies.” 

 

Chrissy turned slowly to look at her friends, pressing her back against the closed door, her eyes wide. Rosita popped to her feet. 

 

“What is it, Chrissy? I know that look,” she said.

 

“Perry just gave me a gift,” Chrissy blurted. “The box was so heavy and he told me not to open it yet. We were planning a trip to New York City, and he said it was for that. I might have peeked though.”

 

“So, what is it?” Wynonna asked.

 

“A fur coat.” A slow smile had begun to crawl over Chrissy’s face. 

 

Wynonna stood up. “We need to open this, don’t we?” 

 

Chrissy pushed off the door and walked through the living room towards her bedroom, the two friends following close behind. She opened her closet door revealing a space large enough to be an extra bedroom, and pulled a large white box off the shelf with a grunt. Chrissy tossed the box on the bed, where it bounced once, then settled against the pink damask bedspread. Pierre scrabbled awkwardly against the side of the bed until Chrissy picked him up and dropped him next to the box. She hesitated for a moment with her hands on the box. 

 

“Do you want me to open it?” Wynonna asked.

 

“No, no, I’m just...just give me a moment.”

 

“Take your time, honey,” Rosita said. 

 

Chrissy ran her hands around the edges of the still white cardboard, then slowly lifted the lid of the box, revealing a plush grey and white fur coat within. Wynonna and Rosita gasped softly at the sight of the luscious pelt. Chrissy lifted it out of the box, allowing the coat to drape to its nearly floor length expanse. She marveled at the weight of it, almost too much. Chrissy laid the coat on her bed, and the three women leaned in to inspect it. Rosita stroked a hand down the fur. 

 

“Wow, this is lovely,” Rosita breathed. Wynonna flipped open the lapel to inspect the inside. Lined in deep blue satin, the contrast was strikingly elegant. Chrissy eyed the stitching. It wasn’t the first fur Perry’d bought her; she had plenty of high dollar clothing. She squinted and closely inspected every inch of the coat. Then Chrissy saw it. 

 

“Would a coat this fancy have a thread this loose along the hem?” She pointed out the flaw to her friends as they huddled closer to the coat. Chrissy took the thread in hand, seeing how it disappeared under another neat set of stitches. Almost as if there was another opening concealed below...she pulled.

 

The lining of the coat split neatly along the cleverly concealed seam, revealing a second inner lining. Chrissy gasped.

 

“Ho-ly shit,” Wynonna said. 

 

“ _ Dios mio _ ,” Rosita echoed. 

 

Neatly sewn into the lining was row upon row of sparkling diamonds. “There must be hundreds of them,” Chrissy said hoarsely. She peeled the lining back further until the entire interior of the coat was revealed. 

 

“Thousands,” Rosita whispered, stroking a finger over the gems. 

 

Laughter bubbled up on Chrissy’s chest as she pulled back from the coat, looking at Pierre. His beady black eyes stared brightly back at her as she picked him up from the bed and began spinning him around the room. She suddenly stopped, recognizing how potentially inappropriate her reaction might seem, and glanced quickly at her friends. 

 

“I...uh…” she tried.

 

The three women looked at each other, their shocked expressions slowly morphing into one of gleeful realization. 

 

Wynonna stood up and grabbed both of Chrissy’s biceps. “Chrissy,” she announced, “you’re rich. You never have to let another man tell you how to live your life, unless you want to.”

 

Rosita nodded firmly. “She’s right, honey. We’re never going to judge your happiness.”

  
Chrissy pulled her friends in, smushing Pierre between them as she hugged them hard. “I love you guys,” she said. “I have to call Waverly.” 

 

***

 

Wynonna walked into the small diner, smiling when she saw Xavier waiting for her at a table in the corner. She sat across from him, watching the way he picked nervously at his napkin. 

 

“Everything okay, Xavier?” she asked after a beat. 

 

Xavier considered her, tipping his head to the side. He smiled softly and looked around at the other patrons, noting a few hards stares aimed their way. 

 

Wynonna noticed, and looked around herself. She scowled. “Are you worried about a few assholes looking at us?” 

 

Xavier coughed nervously. “Wynonna,” he said slowly, “I really do enjoy spending time with you. But this is a big step. What are we doing here?”

 

Wynonna licked her lips. She looked around the diner again. “We should have gone to a bar,” she said. “I could use a drink.”

 

Xavier laughed, a deep gentle sound. “This is Purgatory, Wynonna, I’m sure there’s a bottle of whiskey and a derringer under the counter over there.”

 

“Well if we could just get some service,” Wynonna scoffed, looking into Xavier’s eyes with a wicked smile. She leaned her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her folded hands. A waitress materialized, looking lazily between them, smacking loudly on a piece of gum. 

 

Wynonna looked up at her. “Coffees,” she ordered, “two of them.” 

 

The waitress disappeared without a word and Wynonna focussed back on Xavier. She cleared her throat again. “Xavier, as you know, my husband died recently. I’m uh...not looking for another husband or anything.” 

 

Xavier nodded, listening, but said nothing.

 

Wynonna played nervously with her hair. It was difficult to maintain this tough bitch persona. But for some reason it had been easier to keep up when she accidently killed her husband, than right now when she was sitting in front of her milkman. Well. More than a milkman. Hopefully. “But I really enjoy spending time with you, and so does Alice.” 

 

Xavier smiled fondly. “She’s a spitfire alright, that little one.” 

 

“So I was hoping you might consider dating me,” Wynonna blurted. 

 

“This is very unconventional,” Xavier mused, and Wynonna’s eyes widened. Xavier didn’t miss the look. “Everything about this,” he said pointedly. 

 

“I’m a very unconventional woman,” Wynonna said. Two coffees appeared in front of them and they leaned back to look at the waitress, who stood there holding a metal pitcher of creamer. 

 

“You like cream?” she asked, looking at Wynonna, “Or do you prefer it black.” 

 

“No cream,” Wynonna answered, maintaining eye contact, “but sugar please. Black and sweet.” 

 

Xavier snickered as the waitress dropped a sugar dispenser on their table and stomped off. 

 

Wynonna turned her attention back to her date, curling a lock of hair around her finger. “So whaddaya say? I’m lately of the opinion that I deserve nice things.”

 

A smile stretched across Xavier’s face. “I think you’re the most intriguing woman I’ve ever met, Wynonna Earp, and I look forward to getting to know you better.”

 

***

 

Waverly stood open-mouthed at the front door watching as Nicole lathered soap up the long flank of the yellow convertible, which was finally done and purring like a kitten. She’d thrown on an old undershirt of Fish’s, rolling the sleeves up to the shoulders to enjoy the warming sunshine, and pulled on her most worn and faded dungarees. Bending and twisting to scrub around the wheel well of the car, Nicole’s triceps flexed alluringly, and her hips bounced a bit along with Elvis Presley crooning “Jailhouse Rock” from the car radio. 

 

It was all Waverly could do to keep from running outside and pressing Nicole right up against the hood. 

 

The whole affect was totally endearing, but Waverly had things to do. She shook herself, as if coming to from a dream, and walked out to Nicole. 

 

“Baby,” she called, smiling when Nicole looked up with a bit of soap suds caught in her hair. She spotted it out of the corner of her eye and blew at it cross-eyed, and Waverly laughed. “I have everything ready for the grill. Are you gonna be done washing the car soon?”

 

Nicole straightened up and stretched her back out, twisting to crack it. She grimaced. “Packing boxes and car washing. I feel like an old lady with how tight my back is.” She looked at the car with a fond smile. “This is the last part. I’ll just hose her down and she’s ready for a road trip.”

 

Waverly couldn’t help but jump up and down in excitement, her hands clasped in front of her mouth. “I can’t believe we’re really doing it,” she smiled, “I feel like we’re...jumping off a cliff! But, like...a good cliff!” she corrected hastily with a grimace. 

 

Nicole moved into her space, wrapping her arms around her. “Don’t worry, baby, I knew what you meant.” She bopped her lightly on the nose with the wet sponge, laughing when Waverly sputtered and slapped at her.  Walking back to the car she brandished the hose threateningly. “You wanna stay right there?” Nicole smirked, as Waverly shrieked and ran back to the house. 

 

Once in the kitchen she stopped to breathe, her smile so big it hurt her cheeks. Waverly couldn’t believe that this was her life now. She’d never thought it was possible to be so happy, and now she was about to drive to California with the love of her life, for a fresh start. Things were falling into place in ways she’d never dreamed were possible. Even when everything had seemed so perfect, and Champ was the center of her universe, Waverly had to admit that something had felt like it was missing. Now she thought she understood. 

 

Waverly busied herself pushing vegetables onto skewers and brushing them with oil. She sprinkled salt and pepper up the sticks and pushed them aside. Waverly had recently read “The Jungle”. Subsequently, she and Nicole had been trying to eat less meat, and Waverly was actually finding it to be a lot of fun to prepare vegetable based dishes. 

 

She pulled open the fridge and removed a glistening lime green Jell-O mold. Kernels of corn and tiny diced carrots were suspended in the crystal gel, along with plump lima beans, and Waverly giggled, watching it shimmy on the plate. It was easy to skip meat when options like this existed. Waverly was sure she could even convince Wynonna to eat more vegetables this way. Nevertheless, a plate of hamburgers and hot-dogs rested nearby. After all  _ change didn’t happen in a day _ , Waverly mused. 

 

The sound of laughter had Waverly turning for the door before the bell even rang, revealing her sister looking stylish as usual in a dark blue, bloused summer dress. Alice Michelle danced at her side in a tiny cowgirl outfit, complete with fringed cowhide vest and six-shooters. Shiny red boots completed her look. 

 

“Oh my gosh, Alice,” Waverly cooed, “just look at you!”

 

“Mr. Xavier bought me this with his milk-money,” Alice yelped happily. “I told him Auntie Nicole is gonna get a horse, and he said you can’t ride a horse if you’re not a cowgirl!” She pulled out the silver cap guns and blasted off a few rounds. “Pew, pew, pew,” Alice screamed. Wynonna grimaced slightly and scratched at her neck, squinting at her sister. 

 

Waverly pointed her finger-guns at her sister and fired back, with a wink. “C’mon in y’all!” Waverly drawled with an exaggerated southern accent. “The grill is hot and--”

 

“--your hot girl is done washing the car,” Wynonna smirked, as Nicole appeared through the kitchen, her damp shirt clinging appealingly to her chest. Waverly blushed, looking between Wynonna and her girlfriend. Nicole waved at Wynonna. 

 

“Nicole! Why don’t you go change and we can start cooking,” Waverly stammered, her ears hot, eyes trained on Nicole as she disappeared into the bedroom. 

 

“Jeez, babygirl,” Wynonna laughed, “I already know you two are fu--”

 

“Mommy!” Alice Michelle interrupted, and Wynonna’s mouth snapped shut as if she’d just remembered her daughter was there. “Mommy, look!” The little girl pointed out the picture window at Rosita strolling up to the front door, her enormous furry sentinels at her side. “Mommy, Uncle General’s doggies! May I please??” 

 

“Please,” Wynonna said, patting her daughter’s head. “By all means.” She sighed and headed towards the kitchen. “How about I start mixing up some drinks.” 

 

Waverly waited at the door, a big smile on her face as Rosita walked up. She stopped short, and both dogs immediately sat down next to her, their long faces trained on her. Rosita smiled and pulled a treat out of her pocket. She broke it in half and gave each dog a piece, then looked up at Waverly as she  dropped a couple of treats in Alice’s hand so she could feed them to the dogs. They were practically twice her height, but she fearlessly gave each of them a small kiss on their regal snouts. 

 

“Hey Waves!” Rosita chirped. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought Jennifer Lee and Dio. We’re still working on their training.”

 

Waverly was about to compliment Rosita on her dog training, when a black car slid up to the curb in front of her house and Chrissy disembarked. Pierre was, as usual, tucked under her arm, but it appeared that instead of his usual formalwear, Pierre was dressed in a brightly colored tropical shirt. Jennifer Lee’s head whipped around, her tiny folded ears perking to their maximum height. 

 

“Hey Chrissy!” Waverly said, moving towards her friend, but she was almost knocked off her feet when Jennifer Lee broke from her sit and bolted over to Chrissy. Large fluffy tail wagging hard, Jennifer Lee danced around Chrissy, poking her nose into a now struggling Pierre’s rear end. 

 

“Oh my!” Chrissy yelped, as Rosita ran over to grab Jennifer Lee’s collar. 

 

“Oh my gosh, Chrissy! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what got into her.” Rosita tugged hard at the collie, but Jennifer Lee struggled mightily, lunging back towards Chrissy, who deposited Pierre on the ground with a laugh. 

 

“I’m sure they just want to play,” Chrissy said dismissively, waving her hand at the retreating forms of the two dogs as they ran around Waverly’s house to the back yard, Alice Michelle hard on their heels. She raised a large canvas tote bag. “I brought brownies!” 

 

Waverly linked hands with Chrissy and pulled her into the house, Rosita and Dio following behind. They wandered towards the kitchen, laughing as Rosita explained the various non-verbal commands she was teaching the dogs, but Chrissy stopped short, pulling Waverly to a stumbling halt. She looked around Waverly’s living room at the neatly stacked cardboard boxes. 

 

“So, you’re really going?” Chrissy asked. For the first time, a cold wave of nervousness trickled down Waverly’s spine. She looked around her house, the lighter areas on the wall where pictures had been taken down, the empty shelves. She could hear Wynonna chatting in the kitchen with Rosita. It hit her what she was giving up, and Waverly felt the first vestiges of doubt. 

 

“I...I guess I am,” she said, with some hesitation.

 

The light scent of vanilla and soap permeated Waverly’s senses as a warm arm slid around her shoulder, and suddenly her doubts blew away like dark clouds on a spring day. Chrissy’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “You both are too cute,” she said, as Waverly leaned into Nicole’s crisply ironed sleeveless blouse, wrapping an arm around her waist. It was then she realized--

 

“Oh my gosh, Chrissy! You’re wearing pants!” Waverly stepped back to admire Chrissy’s slim fitting, cropped green trousers. Paired with a neat polka-dot boatneck top, Chrissy looked fresh and young. 

 

Chrissy laughed. “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice. Yes, Waves, part of the new me!”

 

“I personally think you look great, Chrissy,” Nicole smiled, as Waverly tucked her hand into Nicole’s back pocket. 

 

“Lots of new us’s here,” came Wynonna’s voice from the kitchen entry, as they all turned towards her. “Look who I found when I was checking out Nicole’s car!”

 

Kate waved at the girls, “Hey everybody!” She held up a bowl. “I brought a three bean salad!” 

 

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Alice whined, wrapping herself around Wynonna’s leg. 

 

Nicole chuckled. “I guess that’s my cue! C’mon Alice, you want a horsey ride out to the corral?”  Boosting a gleeful shrieking Alice Michelle onto her back, Nicole trotted through the kitchen to begin the grilling outside, everyone trailing behind. 

  
Once they’d collected drinks and scattered themselves around Waverly’s outdoor furniture, Waverly strategically placing herself with the best views of Nicole at the grill, Waverly turned to Chrissy.

 

“First of all, I owe my oldest friend an apology. Chrissy, I have underestimated you for too long, and I should have known better. You’re the one who taught me how to sneak out of my room at night. We shared our first cigarette…”

 

“I taught you how to masturbate!” Chrissy laughed. 

 

Nicole coughed hard around her bottle of 7-Up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

 

Wynonna’s eyes sparkled. “How have I never heard this story?” 

 

“Because I never intended to tell it to anyone!” Waverly said, slapping at Chrissy’s arm. She winked slyly at Nicole. “I’ll tell you later.” 

 

Wynonna gagged. “Oh my god, babygirl.” 

 

“In any case,” Waverly stressed, rolling her eyes at Chrissy, “I’m sorry. And thank you. Thank you so much for saving us from that  _ cop _ .” She spit the word out like the taste disgusted her.

 

Chrissy’s jaw was tight. “There was a time when I was pretty mad at you girls...all of you! Well, not you Kate, because I haven’t known you very long. But the rest of you! You took me for granted and treated me like I was dumb. And I hate that. But now--I’m just glad I still have my friends. Some new ones and some of my oldest ones, all here together.” 

 

Waverly swiped at her eyes. “I love you, Chrissy.” They beamed at each other. 

 

“I am gonna miss you when you go, Waverly,” Kate drawled around the straw of her drink. Her lipstick left a bright red ring around the paper. “Y’all are a lot of fun.”

 

“We’ll keep the fire going, Kate, have no worries. You and I are gonna have a lot of fun, two sexy single ladies!” Rosita said, procuring a bottle of whiskey seemingly out of thin air. “What do you think? Are you guys ready for taste tests? I think I have my formula perfected.” She reached back into a picnic basket also that appeared to have materialized out of nowhere and pulled out several shot glasses, waving them around. 

 

“You know I’m in,” Wynonna called, holding out a lazy hand. 

 

“Me too,” Chrissy said, knees pressed primly together and her posture upright. 

 

Nicole lifted the lid of the grill and peered inside, fanning away some smoke. “This still needs a couple minutes, I’ll try it, Rosie.”

 

Rosita smiled brightly and lined up the shot glasses, pouring everyone a sample. She held up her own glass in a toast. “To book club!” she said, as they clinked their glasses together.

 

“To Waverly and Nicole,” Chrissy smiled, nodding at her friend. Waverly hip checked Nicole with a wink. 

 

“To seeing what we want, and going for it,” Wynonna finished. 

 

“Cheers!” Kate added. 

 

***

 

“Oh my god!” Chrissy clapped her hand over her mouth and held the photo out, twisting it this way and that to see every angle. “I had no idea they grew them this large.” The four women sat cross-legged on the floor in Waverly’s empty living room, the large cardboard box of erotic photos set between them all, with the occasional loose picture being passed around. 

 

“Gimme that,” Wynonna said, snatching at the paper. Chrissy held it out of reach but turned the image to face her friends, giggling and blushing bright red. “Oh no ladies, this one is mine!”

 

Waverly took a large gulp straight out of a bottle of whiskey, wincing at the burn and shaking her head. She smiled over at Rosita. “Okay, Rosie, this one is really good. I can’t believe you’re letting us get drunk on a sixty dollar bottle of whiskey though.”

 

“Only the best for my ladies on the last day babygirl is here in town,” Rosita smiled, ruefully. 

 

“Is that a...pony?” Kate asked, a manicured fingernail tapping the subject of Chrissy’s photo. “How is your man riding a pony with no undies?”

 

“I need to know how big this pony is,” Wynonna said. “Like, how many hands are we talking?” She snickered loudly, making a lewd gesture with her fist. Rosita laughed so hard she fell over backwards onto the rug, the sound echoing around the room. Waverly reached into the box and pulled out a photo, gazing at it with a low whistle.

 

“Here’s a reason to visit me at the beach, girls,” she said tossing the photo onto the carpet. A young man in tiny skin tight striped briefs lay spread eagle on a beach blanket, his ripped abs lightly coated with sun tan oil. His bulging crotch cast an obvious shadow on his thigh, and Kate gasped. 

 

“Girl, I am so there. As soon as I get vacation. I’m saving up!” 

 

The front door opened and Waverly looked up to see Nicole standing there, a little sweaty and disheveled. She ran her fingers through her recently cut hair, pushing it out of her face in choppy waves that ended bluntly at the chin. Waverly loved it. 

 

“I see how it is. I load the car and you girls sit in here and get drunk.” She smiled softly at Waverly to show that she wasn’t very bothered by the arrangement. Waverly hopped up and bounced over to her, cupping her cheeks between her hands. 

 

“We’re helping! You wanted us to go through these last few boxes and see if anyone wants something from them, and we found this one!” Waverly gestured at the box of erotica on the floor, and Nicole laughed, leaning in to kiss Waverly sweetly. 

 

“Yeah well, I don’t really want to drive cross country with that in the car. And Wynonna has a child  _ and _ a man.”  

 

Wynonna grumbled, but didn’t argue. 

 

“So I think Chrissy, Rosita, and Kate ought to split that up,” Nicole finished. 

 

Kate whooped and grabbed the whiskey bottle, tipping it at Rosita. “That’s right, baby!” she crowed, as Chrissy carefully slipped her equestrian into the breast pocket of her blouse. 

 

Nicole turned back to Waverly. “Anyhow, the car is ready to go. The moving van has left. I’m just going to clean up, and we can hit the road first thing in the morning. Tonight, we’ll enjoy our last hurrah.” She turned towards the bedroom and Waverly smacked her lightly on the ass. 

 

“Don’t wake Alice Michelle, baby.” 

 

Waverly settled back on the floor, resting her head in Wynonna’s lap, allowing her sister to stroke her hair softly as the sound of their chatter turned to a comforting hum, letting herself feel the excitement of the unknown. She smiled and closed her eyes. 

 

***

 

The sun was barely over the horizon as Waverly tied her scarf over her floppy straw hat, settling her sunglasses on her face. She slid across the leather bench seat to snuggle into Nicole’s side. Nicole slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the car purring to life with a powerful rumble. Waverly smiled proudly at Nicole, rubbing a hand down her thigh as she reached over to turn up the car radio. 

 

“You did so good, baby,” she said. 

 

“I just can’t believe it,” Nicole said, running a hand along the gleaming dashboard. “I always guessed I’d finish the car, but I never really had the motivation to get it done right.” She turned to look at Waverly, warmth evident in her brown eyes. “The day I moved here was the best day of my life, in so many ways,” she sighed, a dopey grin creasing her cheeks into perfect dimples. She looked thoughtful for a moment. “But...also kinda the worst? But best definitely outweighing worst.”

 

Waverly leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. “The day we’re moving out of here is the best day of mine.” She pulled Nicole’s arm around her shoulder and unfolded a map, pointing at a long stretch of red lines traced onto it. “We have a long drive today, let’s hit it.” 

 

Two “SOLD” signs rattled slightly on their chains as the big Buick purred out of the neighborhood, casting pale yellow reflections in the blank eyes of the empty house windows, only the faint disappearing tones of Patti Page left in its wake. 

 

_ “ _ _ So I'll keep changing partners till you're in my arms and then _

_ Oh, my darling I will never change partners again” _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) and [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1118891884867280896) on Twitter for a good time.


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> This is it. The final chapter. Lucky and I have loved bringing this twisted little story to you every week. Its been so fun to write and see all ya'll's reactions, so thank you for breaking out your jello molds and joining us on this crazy ride. Now we see how our favorite book club ladies are doing. So enjoy.
> 
> Also enjoy the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1214138486/playlist/65LHRsTaAIrmF8vjRDubF3?si=YjERM_aQRbW96YLl0F3aFw) for this fic if you like.

“Nicole!” Waverly called from her office, hands still poised over the keys of her typewriter. She listened carefully and thought she heard the distant buzz of Nicole’s power tools. Delighted by the idea of catching Nicole doing some manual labor, Waverly stood up from her desk and finished off her whiskey, the ice clinking against the crystal. She ran her hand lovingly over the wooden surface of the desk, custom made for her by Nicole after they moved in about a year ago now. 

She looked out the window above her desk at the rolling hills, the small green buds springing from the ground as a result of all the rain they’d had over the spring. With one last fond look at the scenery, Waverly walked from her office and into the spacious kitchen of their ranch style home. She poured herself a new drink and one for Nicole before setting off towards the back of the house. Out of the sliding doors to the left was a pool, and next to that a barbecue that Nicole had been especially excited about. To the right was the large shed they had converted into a shop for Nicole’s work. Behind that was the small stables Nicole was insistent on getting built along with the house. She rationalized it by saying that she promised Alice there would be horses, so there would most definitely be horses.

The large double shop doors were open and Waverly made her way towards it, the sound of an electric saw getting louder the closer she got. As she walked up, she saw Nicole in her coveralls, arms tied around her waist to keep them up and a well worn white undershirt rolled up at the sleeves. Her goggles were over her eyes and she stared intently at the piece of wood she was cutting along the saw. 

Waverly carefully wandered up as to not startle her, looking at the half finished armoire that was in the middle of the workshop floor. Nicole looked up as she finished cutting the wood and smiled over at Waverly.

“One of those for me, baby? Or are you having a rough day?” Nicole asked, as she pushed the goggles up to the top of her head. Waverly felt that same warm thrill from Nicole’s big dimpled smile as she did the first time, and she wondered if that feeling would ever diminish.

“One is for you, smart ass,” Waverly said, as she handed Nicole her glass from the other side of the work bench. Waverly leaned over the top, lips puckered and waiting for Nicole to meet her in the middle. Nicole chuckled and kissed her lightly as she took the glass from Waverly’s hand.

“Thanks,” she said taking a small sip. “How’s the writing going?”

“Well, I need a title,” Waverly said, smoothing her free hand down the denim of her jeans, red checkered button up shirt tied above her navel. “Which one do you like better? _Cheer Captains of Sin_ or Lust: the Tale of a Goody Two Shoes Gone Wrong?”

Nicole tilted her head, considering the two for a moment as she rolled the whiskey in her mouth. “Both very good titles,” Nicole said, as Waverly rounded the work table so that she could stand in front of her. She ran her hand up the front of Nicole’s chest and played with the collar of her shirt. “I think the first one maybe. Snappier.”

Waverly hummed and slipped her hand around the back of Nicole’s neck. “Is it just because you like it when I put on my cheerleader uniform for you?”

“Maybe,” Nicole husked, slow smile crawling over her face as she leaned down to kiss Waverly softly. “I can’t help it, you look so sexy in it. I would have had the biggest crush on you in high school.”

Waverly kissed her back, tasting the whiskey on her lips, and raking her fingers through Nicole’s shorter locks. She was glad she’d decided to keep it this length, it suited her. Waverly pulled away and Nicole chased her lips, hand squeezing Waverly’s hip. She turned her head so that Nicole only got her cheek.

“They’ll be here soon,” Waverly pouted, tapping the end of Nicole’s nose with her finger as she playfully tried to kiss Waverly’s lips again. “You have to get cleaned up.”

“I also have to finish this armoire for Katharine Hepburn before my meeting with Eliza and Marlene Dietrich next week,” Nicole countered with a smirk.

Waverly playfully rolled her eyes as Nicole pulled their bodies together. “I know, Katharine just keeps trying to steal you from me,” Waverly teased, as she curled a piece of Nicole’s hair around her finger. “All those late nights discussing furniture.”

“Oh yeah, Katherine wants me really badly,” Nicole said sarcastically, wiggling her eyebrows. She chuckled and brightened a little. “I like it when you’re a little jealous.”

“How can I not be when you’re hanging out with all of these glamorous Hollywood people,” Waverly said, tilting her chin up to really look at Nicole as her hand smoothed across the back of her shoulders.

“You know you’ll always be my number one, even with Hollywood stars knocking down my door,” Nicole teased with a wink. “But it’s also thanks to those Hollywood stars that we have this house.”

Waverly took another long sip of her drink. “Yes, well...I think my life insurance settlement has a bit of a play in that too.”

“That too,” Nicole said softly, squeezing Waverly’s hip and kissing her lightly. She smacked her bottom lightly and Waverly giggled. “Now stop distracting me so that I can finish up here.”

“Fine,” Waverly mumbled against her lips, kissing her one last time. She patted Nicole’s chest before playfully pushing her away. “I’m going to put the finishing touches on _Cheer Captains of Sin_ now before anyone gets here.” Waverly began to walk away, adding a little sway to her step just for Nicole’s benefit. She turned to look over her shoulder and winked. “Don’t lose any fingers. I’m quite fond of them.”

She turned back around and heard Nicole’s laugh before she turned the saw back on. Waverly washed out her whiskey glass and set it aside to dry before going back to the office and typing up her title page. She smiled as she typed _”by P. W. Willows”_ under it and set it atop her manuscript. 

Tomorrow she would send it to her publisher and, fingers crossed, get it on some shelves. She had sent a different one off a few months ago and they seemed pleased with it. She was still waiting to hear back but...even if it didn’t go anywhere, Waverly was just so _happy_.

Here she was living in a beautiful state in a beautiful home with her gorgeous girlfriend. They were both doing well for themselves and really...Waverly couldn’t think of anything else she needed. Of course it would have been nice if Wynonna and the girls lived closer, but Chrissy was flying around so much doing...whatever she did these days. 

Chrissy had taken to dog breeding, having accidently discovered a cute dog breed when Pierre and one of Rosita’s dogs found love. Well, found...something anyways. Waverly and Nicole had spent far too much time on trying to figure out how that worked one night, after a couple of glasses of wine, but came up with nothing. Still, when Chrissy sent them a picture of her, Rosita, Pierre and Jennifer Lee all sitting with a litter of six very odd looking puppies in front of them, they framed it and put it on the wall. Right next to the newspaper clipping about the grand opening of Rosita’s whiskey distillery. 

Above that was a picture of Wynonna, Xavier and Alice that they got done at Sears for Christmas. Waverly’s heart swelled every time she looked at it. Wynonna and Alice just looked so happy, the only thing she’d ever wanted for them.

Patting the manuscript on the top, Waverly made a quick wish and got back into the living room as Nicole came in from the backyard. She had sawdust in her hair and on her clothes, and Waverly found it absolutely endearing. Except for the fact that they had people due over soon, and Nicole was messing up her living room.

“Hey,” Waverly chastised lightly, finger pointed at Nicole. “You get any of that sawdust on my carpets and it’s the couch for you tonight.”

“You would never,” Nicole drawled as she walked closer to Waverly, hands out and reaching for her. “You’d miss me too much.”

“I’m sure I’d manage,” Waverly said as she swatted Nicole’s hands away. “Now go shower.”

Nicole held both of her hands behind her back and leaned forward to kiss Waverly lightly. Waverly held Nicole’s face in her hands and pecked her lips back softly. Their kisses were slow but a steady fire had begun to grow between them. Waverly smiled against Nicole’s lips and looked over at the clock, turning her head so that Nicole got her cheek. She groaned in protest but Waverly turned back around and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You know...we have some time and...I could do with a shower too,” Waverly whispered with a glint in her eye. 

Nicole’s smile grew, two dimples popping. “I suppose that wouldn’t be all bad.”

***

Waverly was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when she heard the gentle roar of a car coming up the driveway. She couldn’t help but let out a small squeal of excitement and finished buttoning up and tying her shirt into a knot just above the waistband of her pants. With one last look in the mirror, she ran a hand through her freshly dried hair and headed out to the living room just as she spotted Chrissy pulling up the long driveway in a sparkling baby blue Cadillac coupe.

She had a bright yellow scarf tied around her head, sunglasses over her face and Pierre with his head poking out the passenger window. Waverly went out to the porch and waved as Chrissy parked in the front of the house.

“Waverly!” she said, as she got out of the car. Pierre disappeared in the window only to reappear at Chrissy’s heels as she ran towards Waverly in a yellow dress that matched her scarf, white polka dots decorating it. 

The two women ran together, throwing their arms around each other and squeezing. Both of them were making high pitched, and indistinguishable noises as they hugged. Even Pierre got in on it, dancing around on his back legs with his paws tapping at their legs for attention. 

Chrissy pulled away and held Waverly at arms length, Waverly’s hands on her forearms as she stared at her. “I missed you, Wavey.”

“I missed you too,” Waverly said, happy tears in the corners of her eyes. “You look good.”

“ _You_ look good,” Chrissy said. “Look at you! So tan you’re practically glowing! All this California sun and having a good lay will do that to you.”

Waverly blushed and hit Chrissy on the arm incredulously. “Chrissy!”

Chrissy pushed her sunglasses up onto her forehead and winked. “Speaking of, where’s your hot wife?”

“She’s not...my wife,” Waverly said softly, smile on her face betraying her thoughts as she looked down at her left hand which felt glaringly bare at the moment.

“Might as well be,” Chrissy said. “You two are sweeter and more stable than any other couple I know.”

There was a high yapping in the back of Chrissy’s car and she whipped around. Waverly saw a puppy head popping up in the back of the car, fur like wool and skull almost the same size as Pierre’s whole body.

“What the hell,” Waverly trailed off just as another car pulled up the driveway, Wynonna sitting in the driver’s seat, Xavier next to her and Alice in the back. Before the car even stopped Alice was pulling at her seatbelt to scramble out of the car. She came rushing for Waverly, arms wide and the fringe of her little cowboy outfit flying behind her.

“Auntie Waverly!” Alice squealed as she collided with her legs. Waverly immediately bent down and picked her niece up, wrapping her up in a giant hug. She hadn’t realized how much she missed her until that moment. They had their almost daily phone calls, but it wasn’t the same.

“I missed you, little girl,” Waverly said kissing her cheek. “I heard you’ve been good for your mamma and Xavier.”

Alice leaned back in Waverly’s arms, and she marveled at how much bigger she was in just a year. 

“I have, Auntie Waverly,” Alice nodded. “Xavier said maybe we could go to Disneyland while we’re here.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that, kid,” Wynonna said as she came up to them. “Maybe just the fair.”

Chrissy put her hand on her chest and gasped. “Wynonna, please don’t mention the...the fair around me.”

Wynonna waved a dismissive hand at Chrissy. “If I can listen to you go on and on about your perfect ambrosia recipe, you can handle the word ‘fair’.”

Waverly put Alice down just as Wynonna pulled her into another hug. She talked into the side of Waverly’s head. “Baby girl.”

“Wynonna,” Waverly sighed. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Wynonna said. “Where’s Haught rocks? Starting her own lesbian coven in the backyard?”

“You wish, Wynonna,” Nicole said as she came out of the front door, her “Kiss the Chef” apron already on. Her red hair was still damp from the shower since she hadn’t taken the time to dry off, saying she had to get the grill started. 

“Waverly,” Xavier said with a serious nod as he walked up behind Wynonna. 

Waverly smiled brightly at him, dressed in a crisp button up shirt and pressed pants. “Xavier,” she greeted. “It’s good to see you again.”

Alice had already waddled off to Nicole, who Waverly was becoming highly suspicious might be her favorite aunt. She turned back to the group, where Wynonna was talking to Chrissy in a low voice.

“I can’t believe you actually brought one,” Wynonna hissed, looking into the backseat of the car where the puppy still sat and stared out the window, tongue hanging stupidly from its snout. 

“Xavier said she wanted a puppy,” Chrissy said with a shrug. “I picked the sweetest one. She only threw up twice on the car ride over here from Vegas.”

“In the car?” Wynonna asked incredulously. Xavier put his arm around Wynonna’s shoulders and squeezed.

“Alice...said she wanted a pony and, well-- we can’t get a pony so…” he smiled a charming smile that told Waverly that’s how he coerced Wynonna. 

Wynonna crossed her arms over her chest but smiled as Chrissy opened the back door of her car and the puppy bounded out of it like a tiny cloud. Alice saw the puppy and gasped, immediately running towards it. Luckily the puppy seemed to match her energy and began licking her face, much to her delight.

“I officially came up with a breed name too. Cadoodles,” Chrissy said to Waverly proudly. 

Nicole frowned, hands on her hips. “I still wonder...how did he...get up there?” She asked as she looked down at the little dog who was now just spinning in an excited circle.

“Love will make you do impossible things,” Chrissy said wistfully as two more cars came up the driveway. Rosita and Kate were in one car, Eliza in her sleek car just behind them.

It was lucky that everyone was available on the same weekend for a visit. Everyone’s schedules had finally worked out for a trip, and Waverly couldn’t be more delighted.

After a few more rounds of hugs and chatting in the front, they all made it inside where Waverly gave her tour of their new house, while Nicole and Xavier went into the back to start on the grilling. Waverly gave her best flourishes with each room and all the girls ooed and ahed as she expected. It was a nice house, but mostly she just loved the privacy of it. A far cry from their days in suburbia where everyone was in everyone’s business. Their neighbors were far enough away that they could walk around on their property naked if they wanted to and no one would be the wiser. Not that they ever would. Except maybe that time they went skinny dipping in the pool...but no one needed to know about that. And no one would have until Wynonna-

“So, this pool, Waves,” Wynonna smirked. “How many times have you and Haughty enjoyed it in your birthday suits?”

Waverly blushed and Chrissy snickered.

“Leave the poor thing alone,” Rosita said, playfully pinching Waverly’s cheek. “You know she’s faint of heart.”

Waverly batted Rosita’s hand away and led them back to the area with the grill. It was a nice shady area next to a small grass lawn, patio furniture and a table all spread out nearby. Alice was in the grass playing with the puppy while Xavier and Nicole were both hunched over the grill looking at a piece of meat very seriously. 

Nicole poked it with her tongs and Xavier nodded in approval.

Wynonna gave herself the job of making drinks for everyone, so Waverly wandered up behind Nicole and wrapped her arms around her from behind.

“Hey, baby,” Nicole said as Waverly gave her a light squeeze. Her free hand landed on top of Waverly’s on her stomach and she ran her thumb over her knuckles. “Good tour?”

“Good tour,” Waverly confirmed as she slipped under Nicole’s arm so that her front was pressed to Nicole’s side. Nicole turned the meat and the vegetable skewers on the grill before pressing a quick kiss to the crown of Waverly’s head. 

“Here you are, love birds,” Rosita said as she wandered up to Nicole and Waverly with two glasses of whiskey. Waverly slipped out from under Nicole’s arm and took one of them. “This is a taste of a reserve bottle of Rosie’s Whiskey.”

“Business going well then?” Nicole asked as Waverly took a sip and let the liquid roll in her mouth for a moment. She hummed in approval and Nicole nodded as she took a sip.

Rosita smiled. “I’m going to leave you some to share with all your fancy Hollywood friends.”

Nicole laughed. “We don’t have fancy Hollywood friends. Unless you count Eliza.”

They looked over to where Eliza was sitting with Chrissy and Kate. Eliza was leaning over towards Chrissy who had Pierre on her lap and a small blush on her cheeks. Waverly frowned for a moment as she watched Eliza, very subtly, scan Chrissy’s body.

Nicole squeezed Waverly’s hip to get her attention. “Babe, can you take these to the table?”

She gestured towards the plate of vegetable skewers and Waverly snapped out of her thoughts.

“Oh of course,” Waverly said picking up the plate and carrying it over to the picnic table where the potato salad and seafood jello salad were set up. She looked back over her shoulder and saw Rosita and Nicole with their heads bent together. With a frown, Waverly turned back around just as Chrissy walked up to her, looping their arms together.

“Waves, I have to tell you something,” Chrissy said as she steered her towards the pool and away from everyone else. 

Waverly put her hand over Chrissy’s and squeezed, brow furrowing in concern. “Of course, are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Chrissy said, and Pierre made an odd noise from her arms. “More than fine...actually. You know how I was in Vegas last week?”

“Yeah,” Waverly asked, drawn out.

“Well, Eliza was too and we ran into each other at the craps table at the Tropicana.   
New hotel, very suave,” Chrissy whispered, stopping as they reached the edge of the pool. Chrissy pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, threatening to ruin her ruby red lipstick. “Anyways...we got some drinks and one thing led to the other and...I invited her back to my hotel room.”

Waverly gasped and took a step back to look at Chrissy. She couldn’t help the smile and giggle that came from her mouth and she quickly covered it with her hand. “Chrissy!”

“I know!” she said, patting an imaginary stray hair down on her head.

“So what? Are you two...dating?”

“Oh no,” Chrissy scoffed. “It was fun but I am not looking for something right now. Plus, I think I’ll settle down with a man. Not to know your love life, but-”

“I don’t need the gory details,” Waverly said, putting her hand on Chrissy’s arm to stop her from elaborating. “Please.”

“I wasn’t going to get Biblical,” Chrissy teased. “It was _very_ nice though. I see what all the hype is about.”

Waverly couldn’t help but snort into her hand and give a disbelieving shake of her head. “Just...of all people.”

Chrissy shrugged. “I’m not that buttoned up Chrissy Nedley you used to know,” she said. “Now I just...well I’m not going to let anyone tell me what to do or how to act is all. I’m my own woman.”

Waverly smiled widely, pride shining through as she looked at her best friend. “I really am so happy for you. And Pierre.” Her face got serious for a moment and she leaned in. “And you’re...being safe. None of Perry’s old contacts came looking for you? You didn’t make any more deals?”

Chrissy shook her head. “Nope. Just me, Pierre and our booming Cadoodle business.”

“Good. I always knew you’d find your passion,” Waverly said.

“Look at us,” Chrissy said fondly. “You’re living the Hollywood life with your beautiful wife-”

“Not wife.”

“-same difference. You’re writing books...she’s making furniture for the stars...who would have thought just a year ago we almost all went to jail.”

Waverly chuckled and shook her head. “Feels like another lifetime.”

“Chrissy, Waves, dinner!” Nicole called as she carried a giant plate of meat to the serving table. Nicole looked at them and caught Waverly’s eye, winking at her with that same dimpled smile that always made her swoon just a little bit. Chrissy playfully bumped their hips together and started towards the group.

“Let’s go, Waves, your woman calls.”

They got to the table in the middle of Kate’s story about how she demanded a promotion from her manager after she caught him in the maintenance closet with one of the makeup counter girls.

“That son of a bitch had the audacity to threaten _me_ with being fired when I knew exactly where to march my ass down and tell his wife what I’d seen,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Right in front of her hoity toity bridge club.”

Wynonna snorted. “Nothing like our book club, right, girls?”

“Did ya’ll ever even read a single book?” Kate asked, as Waverly sat down and Nicole placed a plate she had made for her in front of her. Waverly smiled in thanks and watched Nicole work with the knife, slicing up meat and making sure everyone was served. Waverly looked down at her perfectly stacked plate of potato salad, vegetable skewers and fruit. They had pretty much cut meat completely out of their diet, and really Waverly didn’t miss it. 

“Maybe the first book we suggested,” Wynonna said with a tilt of her head. “At least these bitches did. I just drank my whiskey and agreed with whatever Waves said.”

Waverly rolled her eyes and looked over at Nicole, patting the empty seat next to her. “Sit down and eat, Nicole.”

“I have...one more thing to get,” Nicole said with a small almost nervous smile. “From inside.”

“Okay,” Waverly said, watching Nicole’s ass as she walked away into the house. She turned back to the table that had gone oddly quiet only to see everyone looking at her. She paused, bite of potato salad halfway to her mouth. “What?”

Rosita shook her head. “Nothing, sweetie.”

Waverly frowned. “Why’s everyone being weird all of a sudden?”

“You’re just being paranoid, Waves,” Wynonna said as she chewed on a her hotdog. “Just eat. Preferably a big bite that takes a long time to chew.”

“Wha-”

“Ow, shit,” Nicole hissed from the door. Waverly looked over just in time to see her holding a plate with a jello mold on it very delicately, body awkwardly hunched over like she had barely caught herself from falling.

“Are you okay, babe?” Waverly called in concern.

“I’m fine!” Nicole said, cheeks tinting.

“Way to go, Haught,” Wynonna called. Nicole shot her a look as she finished carrying the mold over towards Waverly. She walked up next to Waverly, pushed her plate away with one hand and used the other to carefully set the mold down in front of Waverly. The bright green jello jiggled with each slight movement as Nicole moved her hand away. Waverly could see the pieces of olive and carrots suspended in its green cage. 

“Oh! You made the lemon lime vegetable mold-”

She paused when she saw something else suspended in the jello, just below the surface. Something...almost perfectly round shaped. Like a ring.

Oh.

“Oh,” Waverly breathed. She reached down and broke through the green jello just enough to pick up the ring. Little bits of gelatin slid off of it while some clung stubbornly to the diamond set in a simple gold band. Waverly felt her chest filling up with joy, the hot press of tears threatening her behind her eyes and she looked over at Nicole just as she got down on one knee next to where Waverly was sitting on the bench.

“Waverly,” Nicole said, voice cracking a little as she licked her lips. She took Waverly’s hand that was holding the ring in her own and squeezed. “Waverly Earp you...are the most special woman I have ever met. And even if the circumstances...weren’t ideal, I fell so hard for you and haven’t been able to get up since. I love you so much and…” Nicole picked a particularly large piece of jello off the side of the ring and they both laughed, tears in the corners of their eyes. “I know...I know we can’t _really_ get married but...I want to spend the rest of my life with you. As your lover, your partner and...your wife.”

Waverly let out a small chuckle of disbelief, hands shaking as she looked down at the ring in her hand.

“Your wife,” Waverly whispered with another chuckle. “Nicole...I-...of course. Yes!”

Nicole stared at her for a moment before a slow smile broke over her face. “Yes?”

Waverly could only nod as a sob of happiness shook her shoulders. She surged forward and kissed Nicole hard, pushing her back a little until she held Waverly’s face in her hands and got some of her balance back. The claps erupted around them and Waverly remembered that everyone else was there. She pulled back just enough to rest their foreheads together and Nicole took the ring from Waverly’s hand and slipped it on her finger.

They looked at each other with wide smiles and Waverly wiped away a stray tear falling down Nicole’s cheek.

“Alright, Natalie and Robert,” Wynonna said as they kissed again. “We get it, you’re in love.”

“It’s sweet,” Rosita sniffled, clearly wiping a tear from her own eye. 

“Very sweet,” Chrissy confirmed as she blotted her handkerchief under her nose. “I’m so happy for you two.”

Waverly finally pulled back from Nicole but just scooted over so that Nicole could sit next to her. 

“Congrats, you two,” Eliza said, raising her glass towards them. “And now you can say...it all started with a murder!”

Waverly blushed and hid her face in Nicole’s shoulder for a moment as she groaned. “It was an accident!”

“Some day you’ll come clean, Waves,” Wynonna said with a playful wink. “Until then-” she held up her glass of whiskey and everyone else did the same. “-to Nicole and Waverly. The two grossest, most in love people I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

Waverly lifted her glass, looking over and smiling at Nicole as they all cheered. 

They all ate happily, talking and just enjoying each other’s company. Waverly couldn’t believe all of this was real life. Especially when they were all sitting on reclined beach chairs around a fire Nicole had set up in a temporary fire pit. Waverly sat sideways in Nicole’s lap. She looked down at the ring on her hand, head tucked under Nicole’s chin as her chest rumbled with a laugh. The conversation droned on around Waverly as she just reflected on her life for a moment.

All these wonderful and amazing women around her...they had all been in such different places just a year ago. Waverly was in a simple, loveless marriage, letting her soul slowly die as she convinced herself being the doting wife to a dolt of a husband was everything she always wanted. Now she was happier than ever, being creative and living openly to her family and friends with her...wife.

“Wife,” Waverly said, nuzzling her nose into Nicole’s neck. Nicole hummed and tipped her chin down to kiss Waverly lightly. Waverly smiled and nuzzled their noses together as the conversation went on and they lived in their own little world. “I thought I was done with that word. But with you...I kinda like it.”

“Kinda?” Nicole chuckled.

“Kinda,” Waverly winked, cupping Nicole’s jaw with her hand. “I love you, Nicole Rayleigh Haught. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, as your wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) and [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1118891884867280896) on Twitter for a good time.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow [me](https://twitter.com/bootsncatz/status/1090989784258887680) and [Lucky](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) on Twitter for a good time.
> 
> Sometimes I post links to early chapters!


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